The Shrink
by Korean Pearl
Summary: My name is Helen. I can’t tell you my last name. I can’t tell you anything about myself, or my father will beat me. I live on Earth at the beginning of the Yeerk invasion.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of the Sharing. I don't know yet how far this story is going into the future, so let's just be safe and say I don't own anything that K.A. owns. However, I do own everything else. Except I don't own NYC.

That'll make sense later, I promise. Hopefully.

--------------------

THE SHRINK

--------------------

Chapter 1:

My name is Helen.

I can't tell you my last name. I can't tell you anything about myself, or my father will beat me.

Or not me, actually. He'd be more likely to get drunk and then attack my brother, even if I were the one to do the "wrong" thing.

I guess you might think that I'm one of the kids who hate their siblings. That I'm glad that my brother takes the beatings that should be mine.

But I'm not.

My father has slapped me around enough times for me to know that it wouldn't make a whit of a difference if I actually tried to like my father or not.

Besides, my brother is the only one person I have left.

Well, there is my mother. But between her parties and her time spent at other men's homes, she might as well not be my mother.

More accurately though, my father might not be my father.

I think that's why he hates my brother Joshua so much. Because he thinks that Joshua isn't his son, so it doesn't matter if he hits him or screams at him.

As for me, I wait.

I wait in the corners, in the shadows, until my dad is gone, in his room or on the couch and then I creep out, arms extended, to hold my brother and to wipe away his tears.

I hate my father.

I remember reading in a book, called Ellen Foster, about a girl whose father was an alcoholic like mine, and how she used to dream of killing her daddy.

I liked her ideas, actually. Her best one was to let a poisonous spider into her father's bed and then after he died, to call the police and act very very sad because her father was dead.

But it turned out that her father drank himself to death, and that she didn't need to do a single thing.

I don't have enough patience to wait for my dad to drink himself to death. But maybe if I put some poison in his drink…

He'd probably just get sick and then blame it on Joshua and I'd have to watch again, again, again, even though it was my fault, and then the endless circle would start over, again, again, again….

I am eleven years old and my brother is nine months younger than me.

My mom didn't waste any time hopping from one bed to another.

At night I dream about leaving, and I know I could. No one would notice, but I can't leave Joshua, and if Joshua left, my dad would notice.

It's kind of funny how when you want your parents to care, they don't, and then when you want your parents not to care, they do.

Or at least in my case. I know that other families have dads that love them.That there are other families that aren't "dysfunctional."

A shrink came to our school one time to help out all the troubled kids and I wouldn't talk to him. In Ellen Foster the shrink told her she was scared, and she was, and I don't want anyone to know our secret.

If anyone found out, my dad would kill Joshua.

And he would probably be sober while he did it.

Again, it's really weird. My dad cares because Joshua isn't his son, but he doesn't care that I'm his daughter.

And of course, my mom doesn't care at all.

I slammed my locker shut, and then kicked it when it bounced back. It stubbornly refused to close, so taking the palm of my hand I hit it and kicked it at the same time.

It closed.

I locked it, messed up the combination numbers and then ran to catch the bus. Joshua was waiting for me and he fell into step with me as I passed him.

"What's up?" he asked, and I replied, "Nothing much."

Simple, ordinary conversation between two fifth graders, that was all.

"Do you think Mom's going to be home?" Joshua asked, and I shook my head.

"What about Dad?" he asked, as lightly as possible, and I glanced at him.

"I don't know. He might be."

We turned the corner and then climbed onto the bus where the bus driver scowled at us for being late.

"Next time you two are late, you can walk," she snapped, and we both mumbled "Sorry," before flopping down on an empty seat.

I then took the time to look Joshua straight in the face, noting his blackened eye.

"So, did they jump on you during lunch or in the bathroom?"

"Lunchtime," he told me, and then leaned back, his feet flat on the bus floor. "It was only three this time, so it wasn't that bad. Did the girls bother you again?"

The girls. We called them muffins, after something in Madeline L'Engle's book, Meet the Austins where the muffins were the "popular clique." They were called muffins because they wanted to be exactly alike, just like muffins.

"Yeah," I admitted, also leaning back. "But you know, sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me."

"In other words, that's a pathetic attempt by people who are hurt by words to deny it," my brother retorted, shaking his hair out of his eyes. I grinned at him, glad that I didn't have to explain my feelings to him, that he already knew.

The bus turned a corner and stopped at our stop, and Joshua and I both wearily got up.

"See ya, losers," someone said from the back, and we both ignored it.

"Do you think middle school will be any better?" I asked him as we stepped off the bus.

Joshua shook his head. "Nah. At least, I wouldn't count on it."

As we started to walk to our house, a kid stopped us and handed us a flyer.

"Here. Have you heard of this new club?"

I looked at it. The top of the paper said in big letters, THE SHARING.

"No," Joshua said. "What is it about?"

"It's a new club where everyone is accepted and tolerated. It just got started, and I'm a full member. Do you want to join?"

I glanced at Joshua, and raised an eyebrow. "_Everyone_ is accepted?"

"Yup," the boy responded. "Everyone. And we all stick together too, so if anyone bothers one of the members, then we _all_ respond."

His words hit a raw nerve in me. I did not, repeat, did _not_ need anyone to stand up for me. I could deal with the stupid muffins on my own.

"No," I snapped, handing the leaflet back to him as I walked away. A few second later, Joshua followed me, carrying one.

"Why'd you walk off like that?" he asked, hurrying to keep up with me.

"Didn't you hear him?" I asked. "So if anyone bothers one of the members, then we _all_ respond," I mimicked. "Why doesn't he just say, since you two _obviously_ don't have friends, join this loser club so you can have some."

Joshua shrugged. "I thought he was just being nice. I want to look into this."

"Do whatever you want," I told him, and then we were silent.

We entered the apartment quietly, and I called out softly, "Dad?"

"What is it?" he answered from in front of the TV, and instinctively I winced.

"We're home," I said, trying to sound happy.

He didn't respond.

We slowly put our books away as Dad turned to look at Joshua. "Come here, boy," he said softly, and I ducked my head, hiding under my hair.

After a moment of hesitation Joshua walked over to the couch and stood in front of my father.

"So, you got into a fight, did you?" he said softly, almost purring. I kept my face under hair, not looking.

"No," Joshua started. "These kids jumped -"

Smack!

My father brought his hand down across Joshua's check, and without even looking I knew that there were tears in my brother's eyes.

"What did you say?"

Joshua hesitated again, and then went on. "I wasn't fighting, I -"

Smack! Smack!

Twice, and this time I looked up to see tears spilling down his smarting cheeks.

I averted my eyes again.

"What did you say?" my father asked again.

This time, Joshua answered, "I fought."

I heard my father stand up from the couch and deliver a punishing blow that sent Joshua to the floor. Grabbing him roughly, Dad yanked him up by his arm and slapped him again, this time causing his nose to start bleeding.

Then he dropped him on the floor, and without another word sat back on the couch, leaving my brother breathing harshly.

After a few minutes Joshua crawled away to me, trembling as he wiped away the blood. I knelt down and held him, held him as I always did, crying a little.

Then, for no reason at all, I stood up straight.

"I fought too, Dad," I said. "I beat this girl up. I got a detention."

My father grunted.

I knelt back down to the trembling Joshua, who whispered, "I wish I could do that and get away with it."

I held him and whispered, "I wish he'd care about me."

My brother shook his head. "He doesn't care about me, he just cares that I don't belong to him."

I looked at the flyer that had fallen to the floor, and asked, "Do you think this new club would do anything?"

"The Sharing thing?"

I nodded.

Joshua shook his head violently. "I don't want to be a part of it anymore," he whispered, "If it accepts everybody. I don't want to be a part of anything that accepts _him_."

"I know," I answered, stroking his hair. "I know."

**Review Responses**

Look at that. I couldn't even wait two days. It's really weird, actually. I feel this burning desire to update, a craving to upload. It's almost like I'm addicted. Except I haven't finished Chapter 2 or 3, yet, so those won't be coming right away like everything else. I do have Chapter 4, 5, and 6 done, but Chapters 2 and 3 needs to go first. In case you don't know that 2 and 3 goes before 4, 5, 6.

Sorry, I'm babbling. I just finished reading all of L. Emmist fics and reviewing them all – yes, all, every single chapter of his nine fics – and so I'm kind of dizzy from staring at the computer screen for so long. I reviewed them all because I always have this feeling of not being _complete_, almost, if I read a story and don't review all the chapters. So, for those of you on my favorites, I will get to you eventually and give you a lot more reviews. And if any of you are on my author alert, then I'll get to you to. I finished all of Wraithlord's fics a couple days ago (except one of them, and I'm gonna get to that one too).

Now, for the review responses.

**Hey** – thank you, thank you.

**Jumba**** – **Sorry, I'm shortening everyone's names. Hope you don't mind! And yes, I am going to bring J.P back, but not until… let's see… if not Nadar Chronicles 3, then in Mayanites: Nadar and Kyan, or perhaps The Return of the Animorphs, or maybe even Lorrth's Quest. I'm not sure yet, but he will come back, eventually.

**Mersang**** – **Thanks for the review! And she does tell them what a Nadar is, eventually. Maybe in The Papai, or even in The Healing, which is the book after this one. And flashbacks, as far as I'm aware, won't come that frequently. This was more of a fire-induced temporary memory loss. See ya!

**Rachel**** 9466 – **Ah. Well, I write like a maniac, as you can see from the chapters I already have done. And I'm glad you caught up! And oh – I was wondering, do you want a character? I mentioned that in my last fic. Just curious. See ya!

**DH – **You're back! And I was just thinking about you, how you nicknamed me KP and now that has been spreading to the point that I call myself that. And yeah, I'm pretty much writing my own Animorph series except different. And I tried your link, but it wouldn't work. Is the url bad or something? Send it to me again so I can look at it. Thanks!

And that's it. Till next time, folks.

(That means review.)

**smiles**** and winks and then frowns because the little stars won't work so she has to use bold**

Ok, I'll stop now. Review, please!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"Joshua?"

I walked into the kitchen, looking for my brother.

He had stayed home from the second day of sixth grade. Because he said he felt sick.

Joshua was sitting at the kitchen table, head resting on the table.

Blood was dripping from his left wrist.

I froze, for one awful moment, as I watched a drop of blood slide down his wrist, on to the table, to mix with the small pool of blood already spreading in a crimson pool.

"No," I whispered, and then stepped forward, trembling.

Ignoring the blood, I lifted my brother's face and saw that my father had already beaten him. I tried to wipe away the tearstains, but they were imprinted on his face.

"Oh, Joshua," I whispered.

Why wasn't I there to take him in? Why didn't I stay at home for him? Oh, Joshua, Joshua, Joshua…

A note was crumpled in his right hand.

I gently pried his fingers apart, and then smoothed the note as I laid Joshua's leaden head on my stomach.

_I'm sorry._

That was all it said.

I stared at it, as my tears began dripping, and then I let go of Joshua and ran to my room, silently sobbing as I came to the awful realization. _Now I am alone_.

Alone. Before, there was always Joshua, for as long as I could remember, but now he was gone, even though he was sorry, he was still gone…

Why?

That simple question burned into my skull. Why? Why did this happen?

Joshua stayed home because he felt sick, but I bet that it was really because the eighth graders had targeted him. They were bigger than the bullies in our grade, and yesterday he had come home in a much worse condition than ever before.

And then Daddy kept it up.

I noticed that there was a drop of blood on my index finger, and I watched, fascinated, as it slid down my finger, slipping down the slope of my hand as it trickled across my wrist.

And then it hit me.

I could do the same thing.

I could get out of here. Why not? After all, I was alone. I had nothing, no one to live for.

And from the recesses of my mind, I heard a voice say, _So life isn't enough? You can't just live for life?_

"Helen, are you home – oh!"

My mother's voice sounded, and then abruptly stopped. I assumed that she had found Joshua.

Joshua's dead body.

"Helen, where are you?"

I stuffed Joshua's note into my pocket.

"Here," I called, and then hastily wiped away my tears as I walked out. "I'm here."

Mom was staring at Joshua as if he were a disgusting bug.

"What happened?" she asked.

"He killed himself," I told her, making sure my voice was as apathetic as I could make it. "Your son killed himself because he wasn't his father's son."

Mom looked flustered for a moment, and then said, "Oh, surely it isn't that. Perhaps the boys at school bothered him a bit?"

I could have killed her at that moment.

I looked her straight in the eye. "Joshua killed himself, and you _know_ why, and all you can think of is to blame someone else?"

"Young lady, do not adopt that tone with me," she said, trying to sound strict.

She was so sad. So sad, so lame, so bad. It was too late to try and act like she was my mother.

"You didn't care about me ever before, why should you care now?" I spat. "It's too late to raise me."

My father walked in, cursing as usual at the world, and then stopped when he saw Mom and me glaring at each other.

"What's wrong?"

"Joshua's dead," I told him.

His eyes opened slightly, and then he almost imperceptibly shrugged.

And I boiled over.

"Don't you care!" I shrieked at my mom, completely ignoring her husband. "Don't you even care!"

I began cursing at her, cursing at them both, and my mother's hand reached out, slapping me, but I continued railing, oh, how I hated them both.

I felt Mom's hands firmly grip my shoulders, and then shake me to silence me, but I wouldn't. All my grief and hurt and frustration were turning into hate, and I was spewing it out until my father stood up and hit me across the face.

"Shut up," he told me, and with tears streaming down my face, I did.

                                                -------------------------------------

There wasn't a funeral for him, but it didn't matter, his only friend was me, and I was the only one who cared anyway. Mom and Dad simply called a crematorium and then dumped his ashes in a box and gave them to me.

At first I didn't know what to do with them, but slowly I began taking handfuls of him to places that he had liked, places that we had spent a lot of time at. I buried a handful of ashes under the second bench in the park. I scattered a handful over a shelf of books the children's section at the library. I even took some to the door of the boy's bathroom early one school morning and threw them in.

I wanted him back, and I was doing my best to recreate him by placing him where he had been.

But it didn't work, and I knew I was fooling myself as the ashes dwindled from the box and as I continued to wander around the city as if I were planting my memories somewhere safe.

The last handful went into the ocean, at a beach where we had sneaked away to whenever we could.

I was standing on the beach, looking out into the blue-purple waves, when I heard voices behind me.

"Hey, Helen," one of the girls said as I turned around to look. "You want one?"

She was waving around a joint, and seemed to be beckoning me.

Hell, why not. I had just finished throwing the last of my brother away, anyway.

I walked forward and took the joint, taking a drag, and coughing a little having breathed too much in.

"Take it easy," the girl told me. "It's your first time, isn't it?"

I shook my head, but kept my mouth shut, not volunteering any information about when.

The girl shrugged. "Well, anyway, my name is Mona."

I looked at Mona, who was dressed in tight black leather clothes with a lot of makeup on. Even though she was a sixth grader, her body appeared to be fully developed, while mine had yet to come.

"So, anyway, did you hear about Mike?" another girl asked, leaning forward. The gossip continued over my head as I continued to breathe the smoke in, getting more used to it as I kept going.

"I know, isn't he like, going out with Sandra?" Mona asked. "She's so preppy, it's not even funny."

"It wouldn't be funny even if she _weren't_ going out with Mike," the same girl retorted, and I saw Mona's eyes flash.

The rest of the group continued talking as if they didn't see.

"Mike's an idiot, anyway," a girl I knew said with a toss of her brown hair. Naomi, that was her name.

"_You're_ an idiot," Mona told her. "Here -" she thrust the joint in Naomi's direction. "Have a smoke."

Naomi hesitated for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, that's ok. I mean, it's not like I've never _done_ it before, I just don't feel like it."

Mona shrugged. "Let's go to my house," she suggested. "My dad has some beer stored in the fridge."

The group started walking, and I followed, concentrating on smoking as I trotted after them. No one said anything about my not coming, so I chose to follow quietly, hoping no one would tell me to get lost.

It was only several years later that I wished that they _had_ told me to get lost, and by that time, it was too late.

**Review Responses**

Sorry this one was a little shorter.

But ten reviews! **Throws flowers around **And new ones too! **Does new reviewer dance**

I want the stars back. But bold will have to do.

Next chapter might not come in a while since I have three pages yet to write about certain material that I need to research. I won't spoil it for you – we'll just leave it at that.

**DH** – Sorry about the confusion – I put on the last chapter about how Maya's mom said, "My name is Helen" and then jumped to this one. And I never read Hork Bajir Chronicles, either. Sorry! And I tried the link, like, six time. I'm serious – I clicked on it when the bot came to my email, I pasted it in when I checked the review, and I tried typing it by hand. And I did that all twice. It just goes to this site with tripod written on it and says that this site is not working. Sorry, but I don't know what's going on. Is there another way to get to that site? If so, tell me – I'd love to get your character in. Thanks!

**Angelriseng85 **– Yay! Thanks for your review! And here's the next chapter.

**Tabatha **– This is you, right? It just says T in the name section, but I think it's you. And thanks for your review! I hope you catch this update – I think this is within the week. I'm glad you think I write emotions well – I like to make my writing powerful, and sad emotions often do that. Thanks again!

**Crimson Lipstick **– I'm glad you like it this story! Here's the next chapter!

**Wraithlord – **Sorry, I already explained about the email business. And thanks for doing this chapter, and fixing the stuff up. I'll take a look at the link when I have time. And I'm glad you kept the cursing down to just hell – that's the only word I use, since I'm pretty sure that's the only curse word the Animorphs use since I think that series is supposed to be G. Whatever, I rate my stories PG-13 because I really don't know what the ratings are supposed to be. I usually base my stories against Titanic, the movie. If it's worse than that, that it's an R, and so far none of my stories have been that violent, drug scene, etc. Although I might have to change for the next few chapters – when I send them to you, do you think you could tell me what they should be rated? That would help so much. Thanks! And oh yeah, the poem was interesting. I started singing it in my head. Why did you put it on – just something you found? Well, anyway, this is getting to be a pretty long response, so see ya! And oh – yeah, Naomi is supposed to be Rachel's mom, except she's coming in much later – I just wanted to add her in now, for fun.

**Jumba **– thanks for your review! And that would be great if your sister wanted to read it, but that's ok if she doesn't – I don't mind as long as I know you're reading and reviewing. Thanks!

**Eyes of Forest **– Cool pen name! And thanks for your review – here's the update!

**Mifuelle **– Thanks for the compliment! And you kept up with the others – that's good, because that will give this story a little bit more background. And that's cool about the pen name Pearl – I'm actually half Korean, but Half Korean Pearl would be a little weird. I mean, half a Korean, or half a pearl? Well, my babbling is pretty random, too, so I'll just say thanks for the review, and here's the next chapter!

**Hey – **You are always so comforting.

**Anonymous-cat **– Be proud! I put off updating so I could answer _your_ review, which I knew would come. I kept clicking refresh on my email so the bot would show up. And for the character, do you have any specifics? Like character, looks, name, etc. That way when you read it, you can say "That's me!" or "That's my character!" I generally put the _person_ in, because it makes it almost like a self-insert but counts as a fic that's not self-insert. I hope that made sense. And that's true, although I didn't notice the similarities between Maya and Helen at first. Hmmm… after this chapter you're probably going to think that Helen _is _Maya, but it's a different story! Promise! Ok, see ya!

And note to new reviewers: This story is actually about Helen's foster daughter, Maya, while The Shrink is a kind of a side note. A long side note, but an aside, nevertheless. So if you want to, you can read and review all of Maya's stories – just look in my bio for the order – but if you don't want to, I'm going to have Maya tell her story to Helen at the end of this fic, and that'll be summary enough. But that's just a personal choice.

Ok, thank you for the reviews, and here's the update. I don't know when I'll be back, but until I do, please review!

Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

I carefully cleaned out my razor after shaving my legs, and then inspected them, running my hands along the smooth skin. I had shaved my bikini line as well since Mona had planned a party and we were probably going to be taking off our clothes.

I stood up straight and shook my hair out as I inspected my face in the mirror, and then my body, pleased at how my figure had turned out. Although it wouldn't ever be as good as Mona's. Oh well, I was a ninth grader now, and _very_ different from the loser girl I had been through all of elementary and middle school.

The telephone rang, and I picked it up, cradling it between my shoulder and my cheek as I opened my makeup bag.

"Hello?"

"Helen?"

It was Mona.

"Yeah, what's up?" I asked, as I began rummaging through my bag.

"Guess. What."

"What?"

"Rick asked me out!"

I felt a momentary pang as I thought of the junior who had showered Mona with attraction that I never received. But I knew what Mona would do if I showed my true jealousy, so I masked it.

Instead, I just _pretended_ to be jealous, which was fine.

"I can't believe it!" I shrieked. "You are _so_ lucky!"

"I know! Isn't he so gorgeous! He asked me last night right after we had sex."

I ran my fingers through my hair which I had dyed black in seventh grade and pulled out a white foundation and began carefully applying it to my face.

"That's great, Mona. But listen, I need to get my makeup on now so I can catch the bus. I'll see you at school, kay?"

"Sure. And don't forget the party tonight," Mona ordered. "We're gonna have some wicked fun!"

I laughed, and then hung up, finishing the foundation and moving on to the black lipstick and eye shadow. I finished by tying up my hair in several different ponytails, sticking out in all different directions, and then glared at myself in the mirror, baring my teeth.

I added my heavy bracelets and necklaces carefully, and checked my nails to make sure the polish hadn't chipped off. A little bit on my thumb had so I reached for the black nail polish to fix it up.

I rechecked my clothes, pulling my tank top up to show my midriff better and then adjusted my rings.

There. I was ready.

I grabbed my bag and then ran down the steps of the apartment to catch the bus. I really didn't have time for breakfast, and I needed to lose weight, anyway.

I stopped as I got on the bus, and looked around for one of my friends. Kelly was there, and she waved to me as I sat down.

"So, you ready for some action tonight?" she asked, grinning.

"Whad'ya mean?"

"Mona's inviting some older guys over, and you know what that means."

I grinned back, and then we delved into ninth grade gossip as the bus ride continued to the school, where we got off. Kelly and I made our way to the shadowed parts of the lot and lit up.

"I haven't had a smoke in ages," she told me as she breathed deeply. "My parents are on my case all the time. We really have to kill them now."

I nodded, adding, "And Mrs. Riend. She's so annoying, I spend half my time in her class sketching pictures of her with butcher knives in her."

Kelly snorted. "Don't even _think_ about Riend around Mona. That witch told Mona's parents about her F, and Mona is so pissed off I think she would strangle that woman."

I giggled. "Witch? Do you mean Mona, Riend, or us?"

We laughed as we finished smokingand then headed to school just as the bell rang. Late again, but it wasn't like I cared anymore.

The bell finally rang at the class, releasing us from English. We had been reading aloud poems we had written for homework, and I smiled, remembering the boy who had written one titled: "School, the pits of hell."

Mine had been much darker:

Leave me to swallow my own blood,

Let me drink my life away.

Forever the glow of the candle shines

Through the emptiness of my soul.

Don't touch the fire, the old scar says,

My blood will boil when the right time comes.

As evil closes on my flame,

The spark of life will fade away…

I went through the motions of the rest of school, eagerly waiting for the party. My parents wouldn't care where I went, so it was easier for me than some of my other friends.

I sighed and pulled out a notebook during my last class, math class. Taking out a silver jell pen I began coloring in a little moon on the back.

"And so the fundamental properties remain the same..." droned the teacher, Ms. Riend. I flicked my eyes up for a moment to glance at her and then went back to doodling the moon before moving on to fix up a pentagram.

Class finally ended, and I began to pack up when Mrs. Riend told me to stay after class for a moment. Annoyed, I continued packing, but still stayed behind.

"Helen, I realize that you are going through a rebellious stage, but regardless, you must pay attention in my class," Riend said, as blunt as usual.

I glared daggers at her and swung my backpack up onto one shoulder before staring at the ground again and then stalked out of the class, wishing I could see her shocked face.

The bus ride to Mona's house was uneventful, and it wasn't until I stepped out and faced her house did I feel a thrill of excitement.

Or maybe it was dread at what I knew we were going to.

-----------

I murmured along with the other kids as we raised our hands, fingertips and palms facing the moon.

"Prick you finger, it is done," we all chanted. "The moon has now eclipsed the sun. The angel of dark has spread his wings," we continued, and I felt a shiver go down my spine.

"The time has come for better things," we finished loudly, and then crowded around Mona's fireplace.

The flickering flames cast eerie shadows on the walls of Mona's house in the suburbs. I shuddered again, except more from feverish delight and anticipation than from anything else.

A dead kitten lay on the fireplace, its throat cut and its blood squeezed out into a bowl that Mona was holding to her black lips.

I looked at Mona and a tremor went through me. She was an awesome sight, her hair curling in every direction like Medusa's snakes, her white skin standing out clearly against her tight black clothes.

Mona tipped the bowl's contents into her mouth, and then held it aloft. "Drink!"

The bowl was passed down the line as each of us took a sip. Rick grimaced after swallowing, and heeding his unspoken warning, I only took a small drink.

The blood was much thinner than I had expected, yet was still thick enough to make me choke a little as passed the bowl down to the girl next to me. She lifted it and the bright red liquid painted her lips almost as perfectly as the black lipstick that outlined them.

I swallowed the rest of the blood, reminded about the first time I had ever smoked, and how I had choked then. I grinned wickedly. Smoking was such a casual thing for me now – I never would have guessed that I would be comparing drinking kitten's blood to smoking.

Then again, Mona had insisted earlier that we all join in this initiation rite. She had heard about this ceremony from some other satanic cult that her brother had joined, and eagerly told us about it.

"I believe I am a vampire."

Mona's voice snaked and touched all of us as if it were a whip, encircling out hearts and drawing us in. Rick raised his eyebrows in approval as Mona's almost hypnotic voice continued.

"I believe I am a vampire," she repeated, her whitened eyes staring at each of us. "We are everywhere. If you kill one of us, we will get you. We are watching you constantly, beware. I am a child of the night. You are also children of the night…"

"Yes," I whispered, staring at her, and turning to look out the window at the moon that seemed to be surrounded by the blackness of Mona's words.

The bowl was being passed down the line again, and when I looked at it this time, it was silver, reflecting the moon and the darkness around it. I closed my eyes and worked myself up into a red blaze of hatred, bringing before my eyes the faces of my mother and father, in anguish, in torment.

Anguish that they deserved.

I remembered a picture that Kelly had drawn, a caricature of her parents strung up by their intestines, and how Mona had gushed that maybe Jarrod (another guy friend) would come up with something even better, since he was pretty good into this murder stuff.

I had added my own contribution of a kitchen knife dripping with "parent's guts" and headstones for my parents with the letters R.I.P blazoned across the top of the page.

I hated, I hated, I hated, and that was what drew me in to Mona, because she knew the only way to deal with hate was to murder.

She had given me a piece of notebook paper once with drawings of marijuana leaves, vampires, moons and stars and had written, "My guts are hungry for that weird stuff… I need to kill myself, we need to murder your parents. School is -"

"Wake up, Helen," Rick whispered, jabbing me with his elbow and my eyes flew open as I finished the rest of Mona's letter in my head.

"Kill me with your parents, then kill yourself so you don't go to jail. You will go to jail."

"Yes," I crowed, with my palms up, the silver light splashing on to them and slipping down my arms. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

**Review Responses**

Thank whoever you thank normally that my parents gave me some free time to go online so I could upload and also thank Tabatha for telling me that she was leaving on Sunday. As a result, I work faster to get it up before she leaves so she can have one more chapter. Thank you!

And another disclaimer: All the ideas that came for this occult scene and the spell and the poem are not mine. They come from the book: She said yes which is about the martyrdom of Cassie Bernall in Columbine, written by her mother, Misty Bernall. Cassie was the girl who had been shot because she said yes when the two boys asked her if she believed in God. Cassie, before she became a Christian, was a Satanist. Anyway, the point of this disclaimer is to say that the book described things that the mother found in letters between Mona (I used the same name, too) and Cassie. I took those things and created a scene – some stuff, for example, Mona's letter to Helen, Mona's speech, is word for word, except I took out the curse words since I don't want to have to rate this R and I don't really know how many curse words constitute as making it R.

And the title for the poem School: the pits of hell is something a kid at my school wrote. I don't remember the poem, but that was its title.

With that aside, review responses.

**Wraithlord – **Sorry! Sorry! I really will give you the stuff to beta from now on, but it's just that I won't have internet access this weekend and I wanted to get it up before Tabatha leaves on Sunday, and today is my only chance. I will give it to you from now on – and feel free to bash me for whatever stupid mistakes I make. This'll happen rarely, I promise!

**Hey **– You'll be doing a little more tsk tsking for Helen now.

**A-cat **– I've got a character for you. You won't show up until a while later – Nadar Chronicles 3. And name is good, and you're an alien, except you look like a human. Not a Nadar, since you asked, so I made you an alien. Do you mind? You do look like a human, so… And that's ok if you're paranoid – I probably should be, except I'm too lazy to be paranoid. It would be cool if we ran into each other though, randomly enough. I prayed for it and imagined a scene where we ran into each other in an airport, but it was kind of dumb since I don't really know anything about you. And yeah, Helen is turning towards more than drugs to deal with her pain. And thanks for the compliment - I imagined this one out, and whenever I imagine my stories out they're much better. See ya!

**Birdie – **You're back! Hurray! And yes, Helen is fantasizing about stabbing her parents. Whether she will is yet to be seen…

**DH **– I tried the link the right way and it worked this time. I've got a character in mind for you using the name Leonora, except she's not really the way she's described. Do you mind? Well, to start, she's a Nadar, and she's Cambodian. She's not showing up until The Princess/Nadar Chronicles 3 either. If you want to know more about her, I'm basing her off of the narrator in First they killed my father a daughter of Cambodia remembers. It's a really good book, very powerful and moving. I read it yesterday, and it hit me about how the narrator practically _was_ a Nadar. If you don't like it, I can place you somewhere else, just tell me in a review. And sorry about how the kids were out smoking in the open… let's just say I don't think like a druggie. And let's make it a rather abandoned part of the beach. And I will read the rest of the Animorph books – maybe when I turn 30 – it's just that my library is really small here and my parents don't really approve of them – something about them being too childish. They say it's ok to write, but my mom always finds some work that I haven't finished if she catches me with one, or she tells me to read classics. Books for my age. Oh well. Maybe when I go to college they'll be a bigger library. Or a thrift store where I can buy them for a dollar apiece. And nope, I'm never on MSN IM. Or AIM, either. My screen name is jessicajessejess, same as my email, but I'm never on. I don't even know how to use it, actually. Well, that's it!

**Tabatha – **This is kind of a cliffhanger. And look! I updated before you had leave. Aren't I nice? And I definitely agree with you, this fic is better. I was telling A-cat about it – if I imagine a fic in my head (daydream, but imagine sounds better) then the fic comes out much better. I just didn't really want to write the Nadar and the Aging – transitory chapters, now I can get on with the stuff I like. Anyway, thanks for your review!

**Eyes of Forest – **Thank you! And I'm glad you like my review responses – I do them after every chapter so I can respond to feedback. I actually get to know my reviewers quite well through them. And I'm really glad to hear that you thought it was powerful – I want to use words to create powerful moods, not to mention make them beautiful in their use. And don't worry, I'm not ever going to leave this series and never return. I have it all in my mind, and it's all in my bio. And here's the update!

**Gorrable – **Glad you liked my stories! I updated the second chapter by the time you reviewed, but I guess you didn't get that one yet. And Elemaki Chronicles – the only really important thing to know there is that Alloran is Maya's dad, and I think I mention it in the Chronicles already. Here's the update! I won't mind _too_ terribly if you don't review the other fics, but I would really, really appreciate it! **smiles **Thanks!

Reviews are _greatly _appreciated. _Greatly. _

In other words, please?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

I stood in front of the mirror, combing out my hair. I had used a lot of conditioner to remove the gel that I was now using in my hair, but it still seemed to take forever to get the tangles out.

I frowned as I leaned closer and inspected the brown hair at the front of my head. The roots must have grown some; I mused, and then shrugged it off. I'd dye it later.

I put down my comb and began the painstaking process of bunching my hair up with gel so the spikes would stick out with sharp points. I quickly tied up the falling strands and tucked them into my spikes. And then I whimsically pulled out hair spray paint and sprayed one spike red, and then another green, and then blue, alternating the colors.

I inspected my whitened face, and then grimaced at the weight I had put on since freshman year. I was 5'7'' and one fifty as a fifteen-year-old in tenth grade.

I pulled on baggy black pants and a tight black tube top, remembering Mona and my conversation yesterday over the phone over how sexy black clothes were. Not that it mattered much for me anymore – my entire wardrobe consisted of only black clothes.

Time to go to school.

I cruised idly through the rest of the day, sneaking into the restroom to smoke pot once. I was walking through the halls, my arms full of books that I hadn't even looked at, when someone bumped into me roughly and caused me to dump my books all over the hall.

"You --- " I cursed, when I saw it was a freshmen. "Pick my books up."

I glared at the girl as she slowly knelt down to pick up my books while I stood over her, probably scaring her to death. "Hurry up, moron," I snapped, kicking at the books irritably.

The girl's eyes flashed as she stood up with my books and then opened her arms to let them drop on the floor. "I'm _not_ a moron."

I reached out and shoved her against a locker. "Oh yeah? And who was stupid enough to walk right into me without even looking?"

She glared at me before hissing, "I hate you. You're such a bully."

I started to laugh, but my laugh got caught in my throat as her eyes shone in the school hallway, mirroring…

Joshua's.

I began coughing, choking as I backed away from the girl with Joshua's eyes filled with tears at what bullies had done to him…

Oh, no, she called me a bully…

I backed away and bumped into someone who shoved me. "Get away from me, you Goth freak," the person said and others snickered.

If Joshua's eyes hadn't been so full of anger, I might have turned around and started a fight, but I couldn't get away from his eyes that followed me, threatening to destroy everything wall and every barrier I had built around me since Joshua's eyes had closed forever.

I turned around and ran, leaving my books scattered on the floor while I pushed and shoved my way through the crowded mass of humanity to a bathroom.

I fell forward on my knees as I wept, feeling the tears trickle down my white face just like Joshua's blood had trickled down my finger.

"No, no, no," I moaned as I crawled to a toilet, stomach heaving. I threw up into it and tasted bile in my mouth as I forced myself to stand and stare into a mirror.

I was monster.

I slapped myself, and almost grinned with pleasure when the sharp pain ran across my cheek. _This is what Joshua felt,_ I told myself, and then hit myself again.

I began banging my head on the countertop, anything to take away this nauseating pain, anything to take away the knowledge that I was like those who had driven my brother to his death.

I screamed ugly words at myself as I roughly searched through my backpack, pulling out a file. I could cut my wrists too…

But I was afraid of the blackness that surrounded me every time I threw myself against the wall, the darkness that threatened to swallow me and keep in me in its bowels forever, chained and desperate to get out but never free. The blackness that I had chosen through Mona and my friends, the darkness that was controlling me now, the darkness that I was a slave to.

I began scratching my wrists with the file, watching as the scratches began to take form and as blood began leaking through.

And it hurt, it burned, I was in a roaring, blazing fire that hurt me so much that it _had _to keep the darkness out…

But the blackness was still there, and so I switched wrists, trying desperately to drive this pain inside of me away.

I was weeping now, on my knees as I alternately hit myself, scratched my wrists with the file or screamed abuses. I hated myself, I hated the world, I hated the darkness but it was in me, it had taken place in my heart like a parasite that sucked on my joy and gave nothing but emptiness, nothing nothing nothing

"Helen?"

I turned my tearstained face to Rick who had opened the door of the girls' bathroom and was looking at me with horror. "What are you doing?"

In response I dropped the file, dropped my hands, my head, my heart, my hope.

"I don't know," I said dully.

Rick surreptitiously slipped through the door and closed it behind him. "Come on, Helen. Let's get you out of here."

I let the senior guide me through the halls to his car which he gently led me to.

"What about Mona?" I whispered at one point but he put a finger to my lips.

"Mona and I broke up," he told me simply before starting the car and driving us out of the school lot.

I pulled down the mirror and inspected my face. The white makeup was stained with tears and through the streaks I could see glimpses of flesh – glimpses of humanity.

"I'm a mess," I whispered, and Rick laughed. "You don't look too bad to me."

We parked in front of a suburban house and I tentatively followed Rick inside.

"C'mon," he told me. "I'm not going to bite."

I took a deep breath, and took a step forward into the unknown, walking forward because of my trust in Rick – a trust that I had no way of knowing would be misplaced.

------------------------------------

A few hours later I was snuggling against Rick's chest while he held me. The radio was playing in the background but I wasn't sure what station it was on. All I knew was that I wasn't alone, and that Rick loved me.

"Sweetheart," he whispered as he bent over to kiss me. I lifted my head obligingly and our lips met.

"…Kiss with our tongues, like humans do…" sang a voice on the radio. David Byrne, I thought instinctively. Like Humans Do.

Rick's tongue probed deeper into my mouth and I responded in turn, searching for something to take the aching away.

He began undressing me, and it hit me with a shock that he was using me for his own sexual desire, but I pushed it away and hid that thought under, _He loves me, he loves me._

After all, no one else had loved me since Joshua left, and I really couldn't tell what love was anymore.

I let him pull off my shirt and then leaned deeper into him, giving myself over to his body in a desperate attempt to erase the pain that I felt.

---------------------------------

Excellent host body, a voice said in my head.

Startled, I woke up and tried to sit up but found that I couldn't move. What happened? I tried to say, but the muscles in my mouth refused to obey me.

Quite excellent, the voice repeated.

Who are you? I cried in fear.

I am a Yeerk. We are an alien species that has conquered more races than you could dream of. You, human, are simply our next race. I have control of your body, and it's no use trying to resist.

In desperation I tried to swing my arms around, tried to do anything but the Yeerk was much too strong.

So you want a fight, do you? the Yeerk asked mildly.

Instantly I was plunged into a memory, much clearer than I could ever see or ever dream of.

I was walking down the halls of school in fourth grade, tentatively and shyly, when I heard the sounds of fighting. Curious, I ducked around the corner to see three boys surrounding another boy, stepping on him and kicking and punching him. I peeked a glance through the bullies and my brother's face stared out, pleading to me desperately.

I froze for a moment, and then the voice of a few of the most popular girls in my school reached me.

"He's such a loser, isn't he," one of the girls commented as she tossed her hair behind her shoulder.

"I know," the other girls agreed, eager to say anything to curry favor.

My face reddened as I heard them, and I walked swiftly passed the bullies. _I _didn't want to be known as a loser by these girls…

I was already screaming by the time the Yeerk was done, the shame flooding over me again, and again. I thought I had suppressed that memory, but nooooooooo –

Silence, the Yeerk commanded, and deathly afraid that he'd bring up another memory, I obeyed.

Well, that was easy, the Yeerk said, almost sounding disappointed. I thought you'd put up more of a fight.

I've already been beaten, I whispered, and felt the Yeerk riffle through my memory as pieces of forgotten dreams and scraps of memory began appearing in my brain as images.

Yes, you have. You have had an altogether pathetic life, the Yeerk announced, and I agreed with him. What else was there to say? He had my memories, he had me, it wasn't going to help to deny something that he could see plainly.

"Thank you Nafia 3452," my mouth said and for the first time I noticed Rick standing there with a grin.

"You're welcome, Issip 4553," Rick said. "It was a pleasure copulating with your host."

My mouth laughed, and I burned with shame. Rick…

Don't be a fool, the Yeerk – Issip – snapped. Your "friend" Rick is a boy – he no more cares about you than does anyone. He's not voluntary, but he's not involuntary either. I know for a fact that Nafia has made a deal with the human that allows him to sleep with as many human girls as possible in exchange for his compliance.

That's not true, I protested. Not all guys are like that. Joshua wasn't.

I'm sure Joshua was thinking of you when he killed himself, the Yeerk responded sarcastically, and hinted a threat of another memory, so I kept silent. But Joshua had given me a note telling me that he was sorry…

So because he gave you a note that makes it ok? I could give you a note saying I'm sorry, too, would that make you feel better?

You can read my thoughts? I asked in astonishment.

The Yeerk smiled, it seemed, in my thoughts. Of course I can. I'm in your brain.

In my brain? I asked cautiously, and in response, the Yeerk sent me an image of himself, a bulbous worm burrowed in my brain, his neurons touching mine.

My mouth twitched as I mentally screamed, EWWWWW! YOU'RE A SLUG!!!!

Silence, the Yeerk commanded irritably. True, I bear some similarity to the animals you call slugs here, but remember, I am in control so I can crush you when I wish.

Tremblingly I retreated into a corner of my own mind, unable to keep out the running thoughts of _ew, ew, ew, ew, ew _going through my head.

If the Yeerk heard me he said nothing, simply ordered me to stop calling him Yeerk and refer to him as Issip or he would send another memory to me.

I obeyed. My life so far had been hell, and I had no wish to repeat it.

Little did I know how bad hell could get.

**Review Responses**

I'm _finally_ back. Ok, so it was three days. Whatever. I told you I can't stay away.

**Custardpringle **– Well… I already posted a review to answer your review since I don't think you're going to be reading this anymore. And about when I thanked you for reviewing anonymously – sorry about that, I received your review through email and thought you had posted anonymously; I found out later you hadn't. And Cyndi, I know you don't agree with my beliefs, but why can't we still be friends? Telling people not to read my story because I write about something you don't agree with… well, that seems rather close-minded to me. I don't blame you for not reading it – I mean, I don't read some fics that I don't agree with, but I don't tell people to stay away. Well, that's pretty much it. I'll see you in school…

**Gorrable **– well, how is Helen going to turn out? I'll give you a clue… it has to do with her Yeerk! But that's it. And about Cassie Bernall, I actually didn't think about that. It's kind of related, but not really. Just enough so that you can make a link. Then again, you can make a link between pretty much any two things in this world. Well anyway, thanks for your review!

**Anicrazy **– Connect with animorphs… well, read my other fics. The Helen there is the same Helen here, this is just her story as a child. And have Helen kill her parents… winces slightly We'll see about that! Here's the update, and please review! Pretty please? I know the server's up now because you updated, so please? Thanks!

**A-cat – **Understandably, that chapter was delving into some of the darker things in this world. When I read She said Yes, it really affected me. You know that I like to reveal thing and teach messages in my fics – anti-drug scenes, show how horrible North Korea is, etc. So I wanted to reveal some of this very real stuff that was going on. And it's fine if you can't come up with anything good to say about it – neither can I! And yes, there will be a rebuttal. After reading the reviews for this chapter, I'm going to make the rebuttal stronger, actually, then it originally was. And yeah, I put that part in about how they had sex and then he asked her out to show that Rick only wanted sex, as is shown in this chapter, too. And about running into each other, actually, I read your description of yourself and then put you in an airport using one of the terminal things – you know, the free internet boots – and you were on fanfic. As a result, I saw it and started talking about it and voila! We discovered each other. But that's just an example of my little daydreams that keep my occupied. **Smiles **Anyway, yes, we will see each other after we die. Maybe millennial reign… I'm always planning what I'm going to do then, since I'm a planning freak and I plan my next life. You know, like bungee jumping without ropes, sky diving without parachutes, scuba diving without gear, going into outer space and other planets without space suits and space ships… I don't want to do all that in this life, so I'm waiting. **Smiles sheepishly **Yes, I plan my afterlife, for fun. And thanks for adding me as a best author in your bio! I was so happy and proud! Yay! And sorry about the kitten – that was in She said Yes  too. And that's cool about your pen name – mine is just cause I'm half Korean, and my middle name is Pearl in Korean, as it says in my bio. Anyway, here's the next chapter your incredibly long review response!

**Hell-Flame-Narf – **I'm sorry, what are you lost about? I was showing Helen in ninth grade, and now she's in tenth. I can explain, for you… And I reviewed! Good fics, although I haven't read the original. Keep it up!

**Tabatha – **I'm guessing that you won't be receiving this for a while, since this isn't Sunday… I'll miss you! And yeah, my mom thinks it's dumb for me to read Animorphs at my age. She lets me write, though! And I'm really glad you liked that chapter… I love writing powerfully and using words to capture truth and beauty. And I'm working on my originals – The Nedar at is based on this fanfic, and hopefully I can get that published sometime soon! Thanks for your encouragement and for your review!

**Birdie **– Wow, that was weird. I accidentally pressed caps lock while typing your name and the computer fixed it to normal font. Computers are always fixing things for you. Well, anyway, yeah, it is sad that they're into sex so young. I know sometimes people do that if they feel like they have no one else, like Helen did in this chapter. Thanks so much for your review!

**DH – **Hi! Yeah, the last chapter was creepy. I had all sorts of responses to it. And murdering their parents was from She said Yes too. I'm sorry that you don't like Helen that much… but she has to improve, remember! And this will be an important part of Maya's, how do I put it, upbringing? Growth as a Nadar? The last chapter will explain it. I'll get back to Maya eventually, don't worry! And thanks for your review!

**Hey **– thank you. I am getting tired of typing all these review responses. **Perks up** But I like reviews!

**Wraithlord – **OW! OW! OW! Ok, so I had three typos but you bashed me eight times! Unless I missed five other ones… I looked over my story but I never seem to see them until I upload, and as you all now, by that time, no changes will be made. And you did update Dedication, and thanks for my dedication! And please review this one even though you've already read it... pretty please?

**Eyes of Forest **– Thanks for your review! I'm glad you liked the contrast. And as for tying in with the Animorphs… well, read my other fics and the Helen there is the same Helen here. Her foster daughter is Maya, who is a new Animorph. Not a corny new Animorph, (hopefully) but one with a past and a future beyond the Animorphs. I'll also tie into the Animorphs later, don't worry. The Anis aren't born yet, actually, I think… **goes and figures and gives up **Yeah, their parents are kids right now. Well anyway, see ya!

**Toby Hamee – **I read your review to Chapter 1 about chapter 3 and made it R because I don't want people to report me for underrating. The rest of the stuff should be pretty decent, but that one scene is pretty heavy. And thanks for your review – I'm glad you think it's realistic. And here's the update!

_Finally…_ I think that took like an hour. Ok, not, but still! I'll keep responding, don't worry. I may gripe about it but I still enjoy responding to people's thoughts and talking to them about my writing. So, ok, thanks for all the reviews everybody, and please review this chapter too!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Helen, I've just had a thought, Issip told me.

What?

When humans copulate, that is how they reproduce.

Yes, I said cautiously.

Then when Rick fornicated with you, did he make you pregnant?

I… but that was three months ago.

Hmmph, the Yeerk said. He wasn't really going "hmmph". He was merely pondering. But my mind interpreted it as "hmmph".

Well, you do have abortion clinics, don't you?

No, I said suddenly, resisting in my mind.

What? I've read your memories, I know that you are pro-choice, as you call it.

Yes, I told him. Pro-_choice_. If I want to keep the baby, I'm going to.

Issip laughed in my mind. Human, you wouldn't ever keep the child. I can see it in your mind. You never even _considered_ _not_ having an abortion if you ever got pregnant.

It's not a child, I snapped. It's a fetus.

Humans are such fools, Issip said, amused. The "fetus," as you call it, has a brain forty days after conception. Does that mean that the child becomes a human after forty days?

No, I said. It becomes a human after it's born.

Issip, if possible, laughed even louder. Does one's environment or location make one human? How does being outside a house or inside a house, or outside a womb vs. inside a womb affect one's humanity? Does eight inches down a birth canal really make a difference?

Well, I said, less certainly, A fetus is a lot smaller than a human.

That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, the Yeerk said with relish. What does size matter? I'm smaller than you, and I rule you. I'm just as sentient. You've got _humans_ who are different sizes all over this planet and you say _size _decides humanity?

I searched in my mind for anything, a refutation, but I couldn't think of one. Still, it's my choice, I finally decided.

Yeah, you get to kill the baby if you want, Issip said.

It's _not_ a baby! I shrieked, seriously annoyed. Issip ignored me.

Do you think I care? One human or another is nothing to me. This baby will get in the way, so I kill it. If it were older, I'd infest it.

There, I said smugly. You said if it were _older_. So obviously, age makes a difference.

Issip shook my head. That's stupid and I can see that even you think so. Let's kill all two-year-olds because of their age! Or better yet, let's practice euthanasia! C'mon, you know you want to get rid of old people. he mocked.

A pause.

Now, let me help your memory. Do you remember that program about abortion you were listening to? the Yeerk said, again mockingly, sarcastically mimicking a concerned mother.

Shut up, I said. And besides, that guy on the radio program was a Jesus-freak preacher from Hicksville.

What is your obsession with being from the city? _All_ you humans are primitive – never been off planet, so isolated. Does it matter if you live a few miles away from the malls?

I was silent.

Now, that man, he was talking about the four aspects that define human life: size, environment, degree of dependency, and level of development. We already talked about size and environment, didn't we, honey? the Yeerk said, continuing to be sarcastic.

I refused to speak, but listened. I kinda had to.

Here's an essay that one of your classmates wrote just on this matter, Issip continued. I have to proofread this for homework, don't I.

Sucks for you, I said rudely.

The Yeerk ignored me and began reading aloud.

"Many claim that a fetus is completely dependent on the mother, and therefore not human. However, there are many people who are completely dependent on others and/or machines to survive. For example, diabetics depend on insulin to stay alive, and they are considered human. Elderly parents are completely dependent on their children in many cultures – does this make them sub-human?

"The last aspect to consider is level of development. For the physical development of a fetus, 'by 21 days a baby's heart begins to beat and by 30 days a baby has its own blood supply, independent of the mother's. By week seven a baby moves spontaneously and by week eight all organ systems are present and the baby is completely formed. Thumb sucking begins week nine and the baby is sensitive to touch. By week 12 the baby sleeps, exercises and practices breathing.'

"Some also claim that fetuses are not self-aware or intelligent, and therefore are sub-human. However, even using the simplest metric to define awareness – the ability to experience pain – people of all ages are "self-aware". This is especially true of children in the womb. Scientific evidence has recently shown that babies in the womb experiences pain as much as five times more than adults. In fact, a live sonogram recording of a baby being aborted shows the baby screaming in agony as it dies. A baby in the womb is just as human as a baby outside the womb.

And look, the Yeerk continued sneeringly. Here are all the footnotes to show where she got her facts.

I had nothing to say.

Well, the Yeerk said, tossing the paper away. I don't really care. You know, it's funny how much you humans care about this kind of thing. Abortion, not abortion, death penalty, not death penalty, you waste your lives _caring._ Me, I don't care. _I_ know that a human becomes a human at conception. But I don't care; I'll kill it if it's in the womb or if it's eighty.

My legs walked me out of the apartment and onto a city bus where my Gothic hairstyle continued to attract looks. Issip had often complained about this, but in order to keep up my cover he painstakingly spent just as many hours in front of the mirror as I did.

My legs let me off the bus at an abortion clinic and briskly Issip led me in. We waited in waiting area for a few minutes, and bored, Issip began doodling in the dust that covered the counter.

The nurses led me into a room where I sat on the bed.

"Now, you want an abortion," a nurse said, and my head nodded. "Is your boyfriend with you?"

"No," my voice said. "He's a senior -"

The nurse held up her hands. "If you tell me more, I might have to contact your parents, ok, sweetie?"

My Yeerk shut up quickly.

The doctor instructed me to lie down and Issip arranged my body to do so, closing my eyes as they dilated my cervix. I heard this awful sucking noise and my body became racked with pain as Issip whispered, This must be what giving birth is like for a human female.

I said nothing. Issip was gritting my teeth for me when I heard one of the nurses yell something at another. The pain increased and Issip kept my eyes shut tightly while we waited, waited for this to be over.

I guess I passed out because the next thing I remembered was the nurse telling me to wake up.

"It's all over," she told me. "Here, go to the lounge and rest a bit."

Shakily, I followed her and sat down in a La-Z-Boy where a woman across from me was flipping through magazines casually. She looked up when I came in.

"Just had an abortion?" she asked me brusquely. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. This is my third time."

My Yeerk nodded weakly as I rested, and then informed me while I had been unconscious he had heard some information.

They screwed up, he told me. You can't ever give birth again. Quite convenient now, actually. Nafia will be pleased. Rick can sleep with you as many times as he wants and I won't have to put up with the inconvenience of having to go through an abortion again.

I might have raged, but I was too sick with despair. Not that I couldn't give birth anymore, but because I knew, not only that Issip had murdered my child, but also that I would have done the same thing.

My Yeerk controlled my tear ducts, or I would have wept, but inside my head I was screaming, screaming for freedom from this slavery to the Yeerk.

But inside – _inside_, I knew that I had been enslaved to the occult and to drugs and to sex and those bound me far more than did this alien in my brain.

                                                -------------------------------

For the most part I was meek in my slavery. I didn't fight back as Issip slowly infested all my friends, to the point that when we got together we no longer were involved in witchcraft, but in plots to take over the Earth. My Yeerk didn't bother to infest my parents because, as he told me, They are some of the worst specimen of human I have ever seen.

I didn't care. I let it all go, ever since the abortion. I never fought back, and my Yeerk became pleased with me, and almost became cordial at times.

As for me, I knew I was drowning in my own despair but I simply didn't care anymore. If I had control I might have ended my life just because of indifference to life, but Issip was in control and he said he needed my body.

That is, I didn't fight until he started taking me off heroin.

I need that stuff, I pleaded with him as he walked right passed a dealer. I'll go insane without it.

I'm in control now, the Yeerk told me. I'm stronger than your bodily needs.

I almost cried. Please, you don't get it. I get a craving for it, and I just need it.

No, the Yeerk told me bluntly. Heroin kills. I need this body. I don't know how long I'm going to have you, and frankly I'd like to keep you. You're young, you're strong, and you don't fight back much. However, if you insist on putting _poison_ into your veins, then I'm going to stop you. This is my body now.

I fought, I begged, I pleaded. I began fighting with him every second now, my thoughts and heart consumed with my addiction. I fought him more than I had ever before, and each time Issip simply clamped down on me harder, and sent a memory through me.

But my body's craving was stronger than my shame and guilt, and I still fought on, I _needed_ it.

But what my Yeerk forgot was that I _was _addicted, and that withdrawal is very painful for anyone.

Issip was walking me to a lunch table when suddenly my legs fell out from under me and my tray flew out of my hands.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital, hooked up to an IV.

A nurse stooped over me. "We've taken blood samples already," she told me, her lips pursed.

The Yeerk looked around. "Ok," he said, making my voice sound rough and indifferent. Inside I guess he was calculating whether he should stay or not, and I guess he decided to stay, because he leaned back onto the bed.

The nurse shook her head. "I'll pray for you," she offered, and then leaned down, and stroked my forehead.

My body trembled involuntarily, and Issip was unable to do anything about it. No one had ever touched me like that, touched me to love me, not to take advantage of me, but simply to comfort...

I'll infest her too, Issip told me, and I hated him more in that moment than ever before. Impulsively I began praying, Dear God, please get me free. If you do I'll…

I paused. What would God want me to do?

To die, Issip told me snidely, but I ignored him. And do you really think God is going to listen to _you_ after everything you've done?

He sent me images of the rites I had done, the ceremonies I had performed, and I began to shudder, but stopped.

_I love you, no matter what you do. You are my child, and I forgive you._

I'll search for you, I burst out, in response. I'll look for you and I won't stop until I've found you. And I'll stop the Yeerks - my whole life long if you get me free. Amen.

Satisfied, I stopped. Issip was strangely quiet as he lay there, contemplating my prayer.

Oh, it doesn't matter. We'll be out of here tomorrow and then you'll see that Yeerks are more powerful than God, Issip told me finally, and then turned my body over.

He closed my eyes and willed my body to sleep, and as I slept, I felt a strange peace come over me, holding me tightly as a mother or father might hold a little child while she slept.

The next morning, I was burning with fever, too sick to even open my mouth and moan, much less walk anywhere.

**Review Responses**

Abortion is controversial. I do talk about controversial topics, because they exist and it won't do any good to hide from them. Like I said in my review, I don't blame you if you leave and don't review anymore if you don't believe that this is right, but for those of you who stay, thank you for remaining open-minded.

And due to the request of DH, I am updating quickly so we can continue on to Maya. Thank her!

**Wraithlord – **Apologies… when I said "I'll exercise my right as an American" that means that I'm going to write whatever I want and you can ignore me or hate me or whatever, but I'm still going to write since I _should_ have the right to say whatever I want. I probably should have said, "I'll exercise my right as a _human,_" since I believe that free speech is something that should be open to all humans. I was mostly responding to the fact that some people think if I say (for example) "homosexuality is wrong" then that is hate speech and I shouldn't be allowed to say it. That kind of stuff is hot in the media right now in America, so that's why I used that phrase. Sorry about that… And custardpringle is actually a good writer – I've read a lot of her fics. And I guess I'll bring it back down to PG-13… I just don't want anyone to report me saying that I underrated it. It's actually kinda funny – R (in this fanfic world anyway) means inappropriate for under 17 and I'm sixteen and I'm writing it… well, anyway, thanks for your review!

**Custardpringle**– Cyndi, I want you to know that I never have purposefully tried to get you mad. In fact, I do the opposite. Whenever we are debating about anything controversial, I've always noticed how you make slight comments to try and push the conversation into a confrontation, and you know how I always try and make a joke to keep the peace. I've also noticed that you always seem so bitter about Christianity. I think that you're accusing me of hating homosexuals to justify your own bitterness and what seems like hatred towards my beliefs. That you need a reason to dislike my beliefs, and you think if I hate homosexuals, you have that reason. And you call that man a homophobe – Cyndi, you refused to read that article. You don't even know what he said. I think you might say you don't need to read that article to know what it says, but that's not true. The article was about his life, and the pain he went through when he was sexually abused as a boy and how he found Christ later, not about gay rights. And why does that article still bother you? It's been months since I brought it to school, and it seems like you're still bitter about it. And finally, about the witchcraft – I never mentioned Wiccan. You told me you got upset since it seemed like I was associating Wiccan with Satanism. Witches aren't just associated with Wiccan, although I think that's how you associated them with. Personally, I think Wiccan is wrong as well, but I wasn't even thinking about Wiccan when I wrote that chapter – I was thinking about witchcraft, which may or may not be associated with Wiccan. And about the review to Wraithlord… I am not ashamed to associate myself with other Christians. I don't believe that the Crusaders and the pedophiles were Christians. Remember the Left Behind books you read? You told me that those books talked a lot about the differences there. And lastly, Cyndi, please listen to me. You say you don't respect my beliefs – could you respect me as a friend, or at least another human and be considerate when you post reviews attacking my beliefs? If you like, you can email me so that you don't have to review my story which gives me more reviews. That way we won't bother other people as well. And Cyndi, the Bible tells Christians to expect persecution for their beliefs, and honestly, it hurt like anything when I read your first review.

**Hey **­– Yeah, I'm glad.

**A-cat – **Helen's parents are an issue, but the next chapter shows what happens to them. I really don't want to say more because it'll spoil a lot, so all I can say is I will update reasonably soon! I used the bathroom scene and Rick to show how desperately she was hurting – glad you thought it was realistic. And sorry about the leaking blood from her wrists part – I just kind of assumed that it wasn't much, just a few drops and then it stopped. I probably should have put something in there though – thanks for pointing it out! And the Yeerk thought Helen was a good host body because remember, this is the beginning of the invasion and humans are supposed to be a good, healthy host body compared to Taxxons and other previous hosts. And about the afterlife – after I read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis, I've always wanted to ride a lion. **smiles **Well, see ya!

**DH **­– Look, here's the next chappie, so we can continue on to Maya! Sorry you don't like Helen – maybe you'll like her more after she gets freed. **grins mysteriously **Anyway, you're right that Helen is dealing with this wrong, but that happens to a lot of kids, sadly. Thanks for your review!

**HFN – **Do you mind if I shorten your name to that? It's easier to type, and pretty much everyone is getting nicknames anyway… And thanks for your review! I'm glad you think I write realistically. Here's the next chapter!

**Eyes of Forest **– Sorry, Helen is having a tough time with her Yeerk. But the next chapter will reveal a lot more about her relationship with her Yeerk, and like I promised, that will be reasonably soon! Thanks for your review!

**Birdie – **Happiness will come with the next chapter! Thanks for your review, and here's the update!

Reviews are very welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

My body wracked with fever, I simply lay there as the same nurse hovered over me, wiping my forehead, giving me drinks, medicine, blankets, anything I might need. She had tried to wipe the white makeup from my face, but my Yeerk snapped at her and waved her off.

My mind was too feverish to notice anything, but I could tell that my Yeerk was frantically planning in my head how to make his escape. I began calculating the days. He had last fed a day and a half ago. If I could just last a little longer…

You won't, Issip informed me. I'm gonna get us out of here, even if you're dying.

I felt my body weakly lift from the mattress, but then smiled in my head as it fell back down. I was too weak to even move.

I'll get us out of here, he growled. You wait.

I said nothing, but this time it was because a seed of hope had been planted in my heart, a seed that the nurse had watered and that my prayer had shone upon. It was growing, and each time my Yeerk tried to get up and failed, it grew a little more until it started to bloom.

Issip refused to talk to me, and for the first time since I had been infested a year ago, I began to sense the little flickers of panic that passed from his mind to mine. I didn't rejoice, because I knew what it was like to face death and have no way out, but I didn't grieve either.

It was night when Issip tried again to pull me up again, and this time he succeeded in getting me up and next to the door when I passed out.

The next day, he was as weak as I was.

Someone will come, he murmured. Someone has to.

But your invasion just started, I reminded him almost giddily. How many doctors and nurses have you infested?

Slowly, my Yeerk faded away as our memories blended, and I began to see out of the eyes of his previous hosts, from far away worlds that had all died or had been given to other Yeerks. A young Hork Bajir whose name I didn't catch who screamed and fought Issip everyday of his captivity, and then a short stay in a Taxxon, whose awful hunger had taught him how to control others brains more successfully then his fellow Yeerks. This skill earned him a promotion to work under the Yeerk who had founded the Earth invasion, who was now Visser 1.

And his first human host, a middle aged man who was still a slave to another Yeerk, and then finally, me.

You were so strange, the Yeerk murmured. So strange. You fought at first, but then were so docile. And now, you fight. Who would have thought that it was your human addiction and your beliefs that would have set you free? I thought I could control everything, all of you.

During that time of illness my memories came out as well as my Yeerk slowly, at an agonizing pace, lost control of my neurons, one by one. I saw Joshua again, but this time it was when we were young and we knew no one but each other, and loved no one but each other. I became younger and younger in my memories until I knew it was no longer me who was displaying these scenes but my Yeerk.

He showed my Joshua as a baby, as I played with him and laughed. He showed us a little older, with Joshua's serious face as I taught him how to write, as a big sister should. Scenes from a playground, where we raced each other to the swings. Scenes that I had forgotten ever existed.

You were so happy, Issip said. So happy. What happened?

Weak as I was, I ventured a question. Were you ever happy?

He shifted in my mind, and said, No, I don't think I ever was.

And, for the first time in my life, I felt pity for him.

I thought success would make me happy, he murmured, But you had no success as a child, and that was when you were happiest.

I had Joshua's love, I whispered, and Issip agreed. Yes, you had love. But the hate of the world drove it out, didn't it?

Yeah. But love is stronger than hate, isn't it?

Is it? Issip asked, and we were silent for a moment.

Hours must have passed, but time was meaningless for me as I lay with my eyes closed and slowly felt each body part return to my control. Issip grew more and more distant, and finally, when we both knew it was too late, and that he was dying, he whispered, Forgive me.

I was silent, as I thought of the abortion, of the pain and sorrow, of the humiliation, of the slavery.

But I remembered that I had been enslaved to sin, to the sin of lust and destroying my body, to the sin of hate and evil.

And God had forgiven me, hadn't he? He had answered my prayer, for I was going to be free.

Oh, Issip, I murmured, and this time I said it without the fear or the hate that always was beneath my tone whenever I said him name.

I think I loved you, Issip told me. You were like me, in so many ways.

I love you, I whispered. I forgive you. Will you forgive me, for hating you?

There is nothing to forgive, he returned.

He was silent, and my feverish mind felt him give up control of my body. We waited, together, for his death, his death that we were both too weak to prevent.

Yes, Helen, Issip told me, right before he slid out of my ear and disintegrated into dust. Yes, Helen, love is stronger than hate.

And then the Yeerk who I had fought with, the Yeerk I had hated, the Yeerk I had despised and feared, the Yeerk I had forgiven and the Yeerk I now loved like a brother, passed onto the next world, and I was free.

My tear ducts were mine, and as I wept, I wished that I had Issip to share them with.

                                    -----------------------

My fever broke the next day, and I spent the rest of the day resting in the bed until night time came. Then slowly, cautiously, I made my way to the door and slipped out.

Everything was silent. The moon was a sliver of a silver coin, and as I looked at it, I marveled that I had ever associated it with evil. Tonight it was beautiful, and it reminded me of my dead brothers.

I sneaked to a sink in the restroom and slowly, hesitantly, washed my face paint away until pink skin shined, rubbed red with paper towels. I stuck my head in the sink, and ran my fingers through my hair under the running water as I loosened it from the gel and the hair spray that I had put on it.

"Here," a voice whispered, and scared, I whirled around.

The nurse was standing there with a comb, and she gently ran it through my hair, removing the tangles before braiding my black/brown hair into a single braid.

"Why?" I whispered, as she pressed some medication into my hand.

"Because I was one of them," she whispered back. "And now I am free."

I shook my head. "He left me as a brother."

The nurse smiled softly and nodded understandingly as I clasped her hand. "I will return, and when I do, I will see you."

She nodded, and then said, "Go far away, and don't return for many years until you are forgotten here. And then come back, and help us fight."

I remembered my promise to always stop the Yeerks, and for a moment I thought that maybe, just maybe, there were more ways than one to fight the Yeerks.

Maybe I could fight the message of evil that the Yeerks spread, by loving, loving all who hurt, even the Yeerks…

The thought stayed in my head as I crept through the darkened streets back to my parents' home.

I climbed up the steps and let myself into the apartment and went straight to my room where I packed enough clothes and money to last me for a month. I could get a job as a waitress somewhere far away – _New York_, my mind whispered – and then I would wait until I was much older before coming back.

I picked up my backpack filled with the stuff I was taking, and then sneaked into the kitchen to get the huge pocketknife that we used as an all purpose knife in the kitchen.

And on my way out I passed my parents' room.

I stood in the doorway for a long time, holding the knife in my hand.

My mind flashed with memories as I watched Daddy beating Joshua for something that wasn't his fault, as I watched Mommy not caring, not even being at home most of the time as she went from party to party and bed to bed.

They were in the same bed, for once, and the sight of them filled me with bitterness, so much that my heart overflowed with anger and I took a step forward as I opened the knife.

The sliver of moonlight lit up my father's face as he grunted in his sleep, and I froze.

Joshua.

I saw my brother's face there, the face that he slept with after he had cried himself to sleep, the face that held so much pain.

And for the first time in my life, I saw my father as a little boy, a child who had never grown up out of the fears of his abusive father and mother, a child who had only learned to hate from parents who hated and only learned to fear from parents who feared.

I looked at my mother, and I saw my face on hers, a face of longing for parents who did not care, a face that had turned to boys and to sex in order to hide the hurt of not being cared about, of not being loved. I saw a little girl, who like my father, had never been loved, and had never learned to love.

I caught my breath as the moonlight illuminated them both and showed who they really were, and I knew.

Love is stronger than hate.

I backed away swiftly, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil.

_Dear Mommy and Daddy,_ I started.

            _I have to go. I can't explain it to you, but I just want you to know that I'm safe, and ok. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me._

I paused, and then bent over the paper again.

_            I just needed to tell you that I was going to kill you this night. That I hated you for beating Joshua, Daddy, and that I hated you for not caring, Mommy. But I learned something tonight, and I learned that nobody ever loved you two, either. You never had the chance to leave like I do, so I just want you to know_

I faltered for a moment, and then continued.

_            I love you._

            _Your daughter,_

_                                    Helen_

I left the note on the kitchen table where they were sure to see it and picked up my bag and walked swiftly out of the apartment and down to a bus stop on the street. Once there, I bought a ride that would take me across the country in leaps and bounds, where I could start over, start a new life as Helen, just Helen.

No, not just Helen. I needed a new name, a name that would be mine.

And I remembered Ellen Foster, the girl who had also left home after home, to start a new life where she could be loved.

"Helen Foster," I whispered as I curled up on my seat in the bus. "Helen Foster. That's my name."

I let my head down to hide my tears once more as I left my home and my heart behind.

But hope lay ahead of me, and it was in full bloom – I followed its scent from one coast to another, and I knew that I would follow it the rest of my life.

**Review Responses**

Now, wasn't that sweet? Wasn't that so much better than her chopping up her parents in their sleep? She would have grown up to be just like her parents if the circumstances had been normal. Her parents weren't ever loved as children, so they never knew how to love Helen.

And now, I'm taking a poll. I found out that fanfiction doesn't put my story up on the lists, but I think all of you get me through author alert, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, the poll. If you want me to continue with Helen, or not. (Wonder what DH will guess.) But maybe you changed your mind after this chapter. If I do go with Helen, there will be romance between her husband and her, more info on the Resistance mentioned in Nadar Chronicles II, and a special plot twist that I'll introduce anyway, but it'll be cooler here. If not, I'll just keep going with Maya. So, vote, and tell me what you want!

**Jumba**** – **You're back! And yes, this is about Helen, Maya's adoptive mother, although this might be the ending. Depends on what people want. Anyway, thanks for your review!

**Eyes of Forest – **Thanks for your encouragement – that was really nice. And here's the update – hope you enjoy it!

**Hey – rubs head**

**A-cat – **Hey! And true, Yeerks don't give birth, but I wrote that chapter with abortion in mind. I already wrote a pro-life essay for school – the essay bits were actually part of my essay. And as to your guesses – here's the next chapter! Wasn't it a nice turnaround? Love is stronger then hate; and it worked here, too!

**Birdie – **Yeah, there was a lot of controversy. Thanks for your encouragement – I really needed it. I'm glad you're going to keep up with the story now – it's going to be a long ride, and I hope an enjoyable one!

**Eyes of smoke – **Yay! New reviewer! **Throws rice and realizes that it's not a wedding so cooks it and eats it instead **Well anyway, after that bit of randomness, here is the chapter to answer all your questions. Thanks for your review!

**Toby Hamee – **Thanks for your review – and for the encouragement. Wow, everybody is so nice to keep me buoyed up! Anyway, here's the next chapter!

**DH – **Here's your chance to vote! And thanks for telling me about the time mixup – sorry I got it messed up. My timeline is messed up because the only book I read happening in the past was TAC. I will demand that my library get them, I will... Well, anyway, here's the next update! I don't know if this chapter changed your opinion of Helen or not, or whether you want me to continue or not, but anyway, thanks for your review!

**Wraithlord**** – **I'm responding even though you didn't review. Sorry about not being able to wait for your beta services – I have to get it up tonight or I will have to wait a week. Sorry!

So, I'll be back in a week. Can you imagine? I don't think I've ever been off of ff.n for that long… except for that one time when I was taking the finals. Well, it'll give you plenty of time to review… hint hint.

Review please!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Pepsi. Or Sprite. Or Dr. Pepper. Or water. Or McDonalds. Or TGIF, although I wish I did. Baked potato skins…

And another disclaimer, not about food or restaurants: I don't own the name Beit Amit. Read and you'll get what I'm talking about.

Author's note: To all previous readers, I'm back! And I'm continuing Maya at the same time. Nice little compromise, hmm? Her fic is called The Healing. Read and review!

Chapter 7:

"Hello, boys, are you ready to order?"

I stood before a group of teenaged boys, bored, waiting for them to decide that they wanted Pepsi, or Sprite, or whether Dr. Pepper would be better, or –

"Water," one of the boys called out, and I scribbled it down, making note of where he sat.

"Sprite," another one said with a smirk on his face. "You know, you're a pretty girl…"

Some of the other guys snickered and I ignored them. I'd had to deal with their overly active sexual desires every day. And I felt like I deserved it after my past.

"Knock it off," the guy who had asked for water told them, and amazingly, they shut up. I looked at him with interest – he was the first boy I met who had semblance of respect for my mind. The first boy who seemingly didn't view me just as a sex object.

He nodded in my direction. "My name's Sam. These idiots are John, Josh, and Ron."

Josh…

A pang of longing swept over me, and I guess the pain showed on my face because Sam asked me if I was ok.

I nodded, and forced a smile. "My name's Helen. So, what can I get you?"

I was always careful not to ask, "So, what can I do for you?"

Josh and Ron finished ordering (Dr Pepper and Pepsi), and I scribbled down D. Pep and Peps on my notepad. I smiled again, and slipped backwards, lining up four paper cups under the counter.

As I filled each cup, my mind wandered to the list of things I still had yet to do. Drop off the library book that was probably overdue by now; pick up the groceries so Eva and Lisa – the girls I shared an apartment with – could start dinner; run to my other night-time job at McDonalds… I flipped my now completely brown hair – a year's growing out - over my shoulder, and wondered if I would ever go back to California.

I carried the drinks back to the table and took my customers' orders. One of them – John, I think - ordered baked potato skins as an appetizer, and my stomach agreed with him. TGIF was famous for its baked potato skins, and rightly so.

I let my mind relax as my body went along in the busy restaurant, doing everything that I had trained it to do. Put the order on the rack, shout it out so the cooks could hear and start cooking, go on to other tables, come back for the food and serve it to the boys, who exclaimed with delight at the food's eventual arrival.

And then back to more tables, more food, more kitchen visits, on and on. I didn't really mind – it was a relief from my old life, and I almost welcomed the drudgery.

I came back to the table much later to clean up and found that the boy Sam was still waiting. He looked up as I approached him.

"Hey," he said.

I nodded, and asked him if he needed anything.

Sam flicked his eyes down at the table for a moment and then they met mine.

"No. I was just wondering…"

He hesitated, and slightly disappointed, figuring that I had probably distinguished him from the other boys for no reason, I said, "I'm not a prostitute."

He looked at me for a second with a perfectly surprised face, and then laughed. "I didn't think you were."

Huh?

Sam continued more earnestly. "I wanted to know if you would like to meet my parents."

I looked at him suspiciously. Meet his parents? What teenage boy wanted _anyone_ to meet his _parents?_

"I think you'd like them," he told me earnestly. "If I bring them here, do you think you could join us?"

"I have a job here," I reminded him. "I can't just sit down anytime I want."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "Can you eat with us some time you're off? We'd treat."

Sam's eyes looked at me almost pleadingly, and I began to let go of my suspicions.

"We won't go anywhere?" I asked him. "You promise?"

He looked startled for a moment, and the nodded. "We'll stay here."

I relaxed and said, "Ok, then. Come tomorrow at seven – I get off then."

Sam's face broke into a smile as he said, "Ok, that's great! I'll see you then."

I watched his retreating back and then bent over the table, shaking my head, when I came across a fifty dollar bill under a plate.

A post-it note was on it, and so were the words: The tip.

I looked up to the restaurant's doors again, but Sam was gone.

For the first time in a long while I began to look forward to something that would break into my never ending and mundane work. I dressed myself nicely enough – I had only one dress other than my uniform – and waited for Sam and his parents to show up.

I saw his father first, a strong man who surveyed the restaurant with a firm glance. His gaze rested on me, and he bent down to whisper something to Sam, probably asking if I was the girl he had invited to dinner. Sam nodded, affirming my guess, and then led his parents over to me.

His mother was Indian, something that surprised me at first, but after noting Sam's slightly darker skin, I decided it wasn't that surprising after all. The family didn't seem to have a problem with it anyway, and with a wry smile I remembered my father's less then favorable opinion of interracial marriages.

"Each to his own," he used to say, waving a bottle around more often then not. "A fish can't marry a bird. It'll only result in a bad marriage."

I compared Sam's family to mine, and decided that being the child of a fish and a bird wouldn't be that bad.

I smiled at them as they approached, and I nodded my head, showing the vestiges of a bow. They smiled in return, and Sam's father extended his hand, saying, "Helen, it's nice to meet you. I'm Mr. Lancing."

I smiled again, and said, "It's nice to meet you too. I'm Helen Foster."

His eyes sparkled. "Well, Ms. Foster, it's kind of you to join us."

I thanked him, and greeted Sam's mother, who introduced herself as Mrs. Lancing as we seated ourselves and waited for a waiter to show up.

Eva showed up at our table, her eyes grinning as she saw me there. "Glad you found a boy," she whispered as she set down our menus. I shushed her, smiling nonetheless. She was a good girl, and a better friend then I had ever had. She had helped me get a job at this restaurant when I showed up a year ago with only five dollars, hoping to spend my last hours (and my last dollars) with a full stomach.

Eva whisked out her pad and wrote down our orders. I got water – I didn't want to impose, or make the Lancings pay for anything more then they had to.

Mrs. Lancing leaned forward as Eva left and said, "I heard you worked here – is it very challenging? I'm trying to get Sam to get a summer job and you look about his age."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Oh, this isn't a summer job. I work here full time, actually."

"Full time?" Mr. Lancing asked. "But you look quite young to be on your own."

"I'm seventeen," I told him. "And I don't mind."

_And I don't want to talk about it_, I added silently.

Their eyes showed curiosity, but they were too polite to comment. I paused for a moment before changing the conversation away from anything that could lead to talking about my past.

We continued to talk through the entire meal, Sam jumping in sometimes with a funny story or a point to make. For my part, I reveled in their love, their attention, and what seemed almost like devotion to making me feel good. I had never met adults like them before, adults who actually were adults and not just overgrown children.

And I'm ashamed to say that sometimes, even as I smiled at Sam, I felt a twinge of jealousy at his good fortune to have parents like _these_, real parents who cared.

The meal ended about an hour later, when I had to go to my shift at McDonalds. I saw Mrs. Lancing's eyes light up when I mentioned this, but she didn't say anything.

Mr. Lancing shook my hand again, and then hesitated for a moment before inviting me to a Messianic Jewish synagogue, Beit Amit, which he was the rabbi of. I eagerly took the card he held out, remembering my promise to search for God.

I hadn't really searched for Him the past year – I had been too busy searching for a place to stay, and food to eat, but now it seemed like He was reminding me of my promise.

But I think that He was also telling me to not let go of Sam, and that was something I was perfectly willing to do.

I arrived the next morning in a dress borrowed from Lisa, hair washed and dried. I didn't wear makeup as a reaction to my extreme makeup obsession when I was younger, but both Eva and Lisa assured me (often) that I was pretty without it.

Sounds of singing reached my ears, and I pulled the door slightly open, just enough for me to peek through and see people standing, singing praises at the top of their lungs, while others were dancing on the floor. I looked towards one girl about my age who was holding the hands of other children as they spun in a circle, faces red from both the singing and the exertion.

My expectance of a solemn old house of worship came to my mind, and when the girl beckoned to me, I came, bewildered.

"Hi, my name's Jessica, what's yours?" she asked, as the children clustered around me.

"Helen," I managed.

"Come join us, Helen," she said, and without quite knowing what I was doing, I found myself holding hands with her and another girl to my left.

Joy began to fill me, entering my body through the floor through which the sounds of singing were vibrating, through the hands of the other dancers, and through the very air which seemed to throb with delight. I whispered to Jessica, "What kind of place is this?"

"Beit Amit," she responded. "It means House of Friendship in Hebrew."

And so I waited in the circle, trembling slightly with eagerness, almost as if I were a baby bird just taking flight, wobbling in the air, but still finding joy in the flying. I closed my eyes, and my hands were held tightly by the other members in the group as we all waited for the music to start, softly at first, and then building up in volume and intensity like a spring that bubbled softly, bringing forth more and more life giving water until it was a geyser, shooting out volumes of hot steaming liquid that sprang to life with the lyrics.

I opened my eyes, and all of us in the circle began moving, dancing gloriously, while the music and the drums and the feeling of ecstasy grew in my breast until it threatened to burst out in rays of light, shining, shining as bright as the sun.

For I was the moon, dancing around the Earth, singing with the stars as we praised God's name. And I _was_ shining, except it was a reflected glory, as the moon shined in the heavens above the Earth, showering the people with sun rays that bounced from its untainted surface.

The circle drew in, and I looked at the radiant faces of the other dancers, and I knew, knew like a deer knows its woods and meadows, that they too were worshipping Him. I laughed in pure joy as we withdrew and continued to circle, my hair whipping in the wind that we, the circle of dancers had created.

The song stopped, and we slowly stopped as well. I was almost panting from the immense energy that surrounded me, and for a moment, I felt as if I were high – not by drugs, though, but by the natural beauty of life.

Jessica echoed my thoughts. "I love that song. You know, I tell people that I get high off of worshipping God, but it's a natural high. Well," she shrugged, "That's the best way I can describe it. I've never actually been high, so I don't really know."

I stared at her for a moment, and then asked her more about the people in this synagogue. She was eager to tell me, and so we left the dancers for a moment and headed to the back where we could speak quietly.

"The members who attend this synagogue are mostly Messianic Jews – Jews that believe that Yeshua, Jesus, was the prophesied Messiah."

I looked up and saw that Mr. Lancing was on the stage, playing his saxophone with the music. He had a yarmulke on, besides a prayer shawl that Jessica said had tzitzit, or fringes at the edges.

"What about you?" I asked. "Are you Jewish?"

She shook her head. "No, but it doesn't matter here. As one of our songs say, we believe that we are…"

Jessica paused for a moment, and then called out to the congregation, "Becky!" A younger girl, presumably her sister, showed up, and Jessica said, "Becky, sing that song, you know, about Jew and Gentile, one in Yeshua."

"Jew and Gentile, one in _Messiah," _Becky corrected, and then began singing a simple melody while Jessica grinned at me, sheepishly explaining, "I can't sing as well as her."

Jew and Gentile, one in Messiah, one in Yeshua, one in the olive tree,

Jew and Gentile, one in Messiah, one in Yeshua's love,

Help us Father,

To love one another, with,

Humble hearts,

Forgiving each other

Heal our wounds - bind us together,

So the world might believe!

"Da la la, la. Da la la, la," she sang as the musical interlude, and then repeated the song, smiling as she finished.

"We are bound together in our faith in Yeshua the Messiah," Jessica explained as Becky went back to her seat. "We believe that he was the promised Messiah, who died for our sins so that we don't have to go to Hell. Yes, Messianic Jews are a minority. But for me, I come here to worship my Creator and His son, my Redeemer."

Trembling slightly, I asked her, "How does someone else do that?"

"You pray," she told me. "You pray, and you tell God that you know you are a sinner, and that you know you deserve to go to Hell. You thank him for forgiving you, and for sending Yeshua down to Earth to die for your sins. You tell Him that you believe that you are His child now, washed pure and sinless by the blood of Yeshua."

Washed pure and sinless…

I remembered my lust, my hatred, my anger, my bitterness, and my cruelty. I remembered my longing for love, for acceptance, for parents who would care.

I would be washed clean, finally, for the first time.

And I wouldn't be alone anymore.

I repeated her words, tears slowly making my way down my cheeks, and then returned to the circle of dancers with a new heart, a new soul, and a new body.

_I found you, God._

**Review Reponses**

More controversy. But this synagogue is really fun. I don't like slow hymns and services so much, but this synagogue is really engaging. I actually wrote that bit with the whole bunch of metaphors and similes when describing the dancing. Jessica is based on me – she is me, actually, although I've never talked to Helen, obviously, since she doesn't exist. That song is a real song we sing – it's not really a dancing song, but a swaying song. And our rabbi plays a saxophone, too, although he isn't named Lancing. And that scene with me calling my sister over – that would have really happened, too.

Now that we've established the differences between stuff I made up and stuff that I based on the truth, on to review responses!

**Eyes of Forest – **I'm glad you liked that chapter – I hope you like this one too! I was working in the theme of forgiveness, and how that frees people from hate. Revenge can't. Anyway, thanks for your review!

**Toby Hamee – **Thanks for all your compliments! I'm glad you think I'm a good writer. I hope to publish a book before I graduate highschool, and I'm working on stuff in fictionpress except I've decided that I don't like any of it, and I'm going to start over. Ask A-cat – I've started over my one fic there, and I just restarted it on my laptop, but for the sake of not being an overly picky perfectionist, I'm going to just keep going and then rewrite after I'm done. So, I'm going to continue with Maya, and then keep up this one, too. I hope you like this chapter!

**Birdie – **Here's the solution! It came to me while I was on the way to a Bible conference. And now I will upload both at approximately the same time. Thanks for your review!

**Jumba**– Yeah, now we will get to the part where she saves you. Don't worry! **Smiles**

**A-cat – **Yeah, my story doesn't show up on the normal list which is why a lot of the reviewers who reviewed my first chapter can't find it. I don't know what happened – I emailed fanfiction, but they must be soooo busy… **note the sarcasm **Anyway, hopefully you can click on my new story, click on my name, and then access the Shrink, b/c I don't think fanfiction is going to reply to me. And thanks for your review!

**DH – **Here's the solution – you can actually stop reading this one if you like, since I started Maya again. Hope you like her continuation and thanks for your review!


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I am messing with time, just to let you know. I didn't learn that much about the 60's and 70's in school (other than the hippies), so I am basically placing Helen's life in the 90's, and putting the Animorphs in the 00's – 10's. I haven't been really writing about lifestyle in the 70's anyway because when I think of anything before the 90's, I think bad computers or no computers.

This is all to excuse the LOTR quote that I used, just to let you know, which I don't own, by the way.

Chapter 8:

"You should go to college."

I turned to face Sam, whose open and honest face beckoned me towards me. "What?"

We were sitting in a park, one of the few walled parks in New York City. Sam's little sister was with us – as a "chaperone," she claimed.

"You should go to college," he repeated. "You know, what you do after high school?"

I smiled. "But I don't have a diploma. I never finished high school."

"So go to school."

I laughed. "You're so simple, Sam. It's not that simple."

"Sure it is. Make it simple. Just do it."

I looked at him sideways, and he grinned back. Talking to Sam... it was like talking to the ever-elusive waves that crawled up the beach at high tide, only to return to the ocean at the moon's call. I felt like I was forever chasing after him, forcing him to talk while he smiled at me and winked, saying, silence is enough.

So we sat there silently, each of us tasting each other's words when Brooke, Sam's sister, broke in.

"If you're going to talk, do it. It's no fun listening to you guys just sit there and breathe."

I turned to look at her utterly serious face that had no trace of anything that wasn't genuine. Sam rolled his eyes and said loudly, "Well, maybe you shouldn't _eavesdrop,_ then."

Brooke tossed her hair back with a grin, and said in an accented voice, "I ain't dropping no eaves, sir."

"Would you shut up about that movie?" asked Sam, but more from habit than anything else. I watched him lean back to tickle Brooke, but she was too fast. Sam got up to chase her around the garden, and I watched them from the bench until an old lady started screaming at them for being too rowdy.

We got up and left the park, Brooke between us. She was ever conscious of her role as "chaperone" and had told us, many times, that if we even touched each other she would cut off our heads.

I loved her, for her simple charms, for the respect that she had for Sam, and for the wisdom that she had about me. She knew not to ask me about my past, and yet she treated me no different from the other girls that Sam spent time with.

"Not alone," Brooke assured me once. "Never alone. He's a _boy._ Who knows what he'll do? I mean, I know that he's nice and wouldn't ever do something bad on purpose. But when you're alone with a girl or a guy that you like, it's hard to say no. So I'm his little no voice that says it for him so he doesn't have to struggle and make stupid mistakes that could easily be avoided."

And I thought, maybe, if Rick had grown up in an environment where his little sister and mother and father taught him to respect girls and their bodies, maybe Rick wouldn't have done what he did do…

I stopped myself. That was too close to blame, and I knew that it was equally my fault.

But a fault that I had been forgiven of.

"Let's race," suggested Sam, and so the three of us began running, scattering pigeons as we flew past them.

And as I looked at the three of us, I knew that if I ever were to marry, it would be to a boy like Sam.

And so I did.

We went to movies with his family, went out on more trips with his sister, and because there was always someone with us, I learned to love him not because of his body, but because of himself. Because of his love for God and for his family, because of his respect for life and for me, because of his attitude of hope and optimism. Eventually Sam's family unofficially adopted me, and I told them my story, even the part about the Yeerks.

And they wept with me.

I finished high school, went to college, majored in psychology like Sam, and got married to him.

I was twenty-six when I graduated from graduate school and I knew that ten years away from the Yeerks was enough.

Eva was still around, although she had married a year or two before me. She, too, had finished school, and her husband had received a job offer in California.

So we moved together, and kept in contact as we settled down in the same city, our lives touching as I got a job as a professor and as Sam got a job as a shrink, or so I fondly called him.

I hated it in California.

Every tap, every touch on the shoulder made me turn fearfully, afraid that it would be a face I knew, a face that would recognize me.

But no, I reminded myself. Helen is a common name. I am Helen Lancing now, and the black-haired, whitened face girl I was before is not the same as the flesh-toned, brown-haired woman I am now. No one will know me.

Or so I hoped.

I went to the hospital to find the nurse that had helped me, and found out that she had died when a patient had stabbed her in a desperate attempt to escape the hospital.

Yeerk, my mind said.

I put off visiting my parents for several months, until finally Sam said, "Go. They deserve to know that you are here."

But they were gone, too, my father wasted from alcohol and my mother from an STD.

What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to fight the Yeerks. My parents were dead – _Good, _a voice in me whispered before I squashed it underfoot. I was still an imperfect human and I would need the God who forgave me to help me forgive them completely still.

And to top it off, Eva got pregnant.

Now, jealousy is a very powerful thing. It can destroy friendships, ruin marriages, and is often a prime motive for murder.

I fought that jealousy each time I saw her beaming face, each time she talked about her children – "If he's a boy, we're naming him Marco. If she's a girl, we're naming her Rosa." I smiled, tried to be genuinely happy for her, but each time my womb cried out, what about me? What life will be planted here?

The ability to give life was robbed from me.

Until a child was given to me.

I was passing through the slummier part of town when a child darted from a doorway and straight into my arms. I lifted the boy up as he began kicking, howling, "Let me go! Let me go!"

I looked past him to see my father.

No, not my father, I corrected, even though my heart raced and my pulse rapidly increased. He's just another drunk man – there's are lot of drunk men out there, you know.

"My son," he slurred, his beefy hand curling into a fist. "Give him."

Wetness splashed onto my neck, and I looked up to see tears coming out of the boy's eyes. "He'll kill me," he whispered. "Let me go."

I ran.

I don't know whether it was legal, or whether I'd be sued, or what, but I knew one thing.

It was wrong.

It was wrong that my father should be alive again, even after all this time. That Joshua should have to suffer again. That the endless cycle of hate and abuse should start again.

So I took the little boy in to my home, filed adoption papers, found the man when he was sober and persuaded him to let me have him (for some money) and then I had a child.

I visited a local orphanage and adopted more kids; glad that I had tenure now so I would be able to spend time with them. I signed up as a foster home, eager to open my arms to children who would be like me, children who just needed another chance.

And I thought, maybe, this is one way to stop the Yeerks. Stop them from snatching our children who need love, not acceptance. Stop them from preying on children who were so desperately alone.

One night, after putting all the children to bed, I received a phone call from the hospital that I had spent time in as a girl.

"Excuse me, is this the Lancing home?" an official voice said at the other end.

"Yes," I responded.

"We found this number in the purse of Eva under who to contact in case of emergency."

I felt my throat close up and I asked, "What happened?"

"Eva is giving birth prematurely, and her husband, as so far as we can make out, is on a business trip."

"But her baby isn't due yet! She's still got a month, or at least a month and a half!" I cried.

"That's why we called you. She needs support, and she's been asking for you anyway."

I raced over to the hospital, my mind full of worry. I was ushered into the room where Eva lay, moaning in pain.

"Eva, I'm here," I told her, and her hand grasped mine like a pair of pincers as she gasped for breath.

I waited with her, not telling her how I longed to trade for just one day her pain and agony in return for a life of my own.

But then, I realized that I didn't really need to have this wish anymore. That I actually didn't – I had kids of my own, I –

"Identical twins!" a nurse hissed quietly, and I looked towards her.

Now, I know people say that you can't tell when people are Controllers, but at that moment such a look of greed crossed the nurse's face that I shuddered. Why greed when there are identical twins?

I thought of Hitler, and the horrible experiments tried on twins, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Yeerks were going to do something as well.

I pulled my hand out of Eva's grasp and kissed her brow as a nurse and a doctor took care of the two babies that Eva had just bore, washing them. I watched carefully as the doctor placed the boy – Marco – in Eva's arms, while the nurse still held the girl. Rosa.

"I'll take her," I offered, stepping forward, determined to thwart her plans. She gave me a blank look that would have hid her anxiety except I looked to see her hands and shoulders tighten.

"Oh, that's alright."

"I'm her mother's best friend," I explained. "I'll take the baby."

Reluctantly the nurse handed Rosa over to me, and I smoothed back the fuzz on her hair to see that yes, she and Marco were identical twins.

"We need to stamp their feet," the doctor told me, and so I released Rosa to him and returned to Eva's side.

"I have a son," she murmured, before dropping off to sleep.

"A daughter, too," I tried to tell her, but she was long gone. I looked, up my feeling of uneasiness intensified when I saw that both Marco and Rosa were gone.

No. Never. Not again. I had lost a child, and I would not let my best friend lose hers too.

In that moment, my love for Eva defeated my jealousy and I sprang up, searching for her babies.

I followed the team outside as they congratulated each other on the successful birth, and glimpsed the doctor who had taken Marco. "Doctor," I called out, and he turned to me.

Hurriedly I caught up to him, and asked, "Where are the babies?"

He looked around. "Where did that nurse go?"

My heart stopped, and I said as carefully as I could, "Where would she take them?"

"To the nursery, maybe, but - "

I ignored him and forced my way through the crowd of people, reading signs as I hurried through the hallways. Marco, Rosa…

I glimpsed the nurse and shouted, "Hey! You!"

She turned and saw me, but hurried away, her arms holding someone.

It had to be one of the twins. It had to be.

I began sprinting down the hospital hallway as the nurse also began running towards the elevator. I pushed myself harder, desperately thinking of an excuse to explain why I was running after her.

She made it to the elevator, and I yelled, "Eva wants to thank you personally for your kind care!"

The suspicion on her face disappeared as she shouted back, "Tell her she's welcome!"

I tore down the hallway, desperate to make the elevator, and rushed right up to it, sticking out a hand to stop it when it closed in my face.

**Review Responses**

Mwah hah hah haha! Cliffe!

And everyone thank Anicrazy. His last few reviews encouraged me to get this done! It's not over yet. Obviously, since it's a cliffie.

And one thing though – yes, there are twins. I added Rosa. Note: My beta told me that: "Problem. Identical twins are COMPLETELY identical, right down to the genetic code. . .so they would be both boys or both girls. Not one of each. Non-identical twins are either. It's because "standard" twins are caused by two eggs getting fertilised, resulting in two different children, while identical twins are caused by one egg splitting. . .effectively clones." So I'm messing with science, just like I mess with time and saying that they're identical twins regardless. Thanks for all the notes, Wraithlord!

And another note: The New York park yelling thing actually happened to me once. I was with my sister in New York and we were trying to climb one of the trees and this old lady started yelling at us. She yelled at my parents too, for not "watching us." We left the park.

**Tabatha**** – **You're back! I'm glad you liked the story – and I did read your review about how you wanted to see Sam's reaction. I had already written this chapter by the time I read it, so remind me next review and I will write up a little paragraph or two or however long it takes writing down his reaction. As like a separate side note, for a better explanation. I did something like that for DH when I explained better why Maya joined the Animorphs. Well anyway, see ya!

**HFN – **Thanks for the review – and yes, Maya is back!

**Eyes of Forest – **Nope, this isn't the end. We've got a few more chapters to go. I'm going to bring her up to where she starts telling her life to Maya, her adoptive daughter. Then I'll have a chapter where Maya tells Helen about her life, as a summary for people who don't want to bother reading my other fics, so they can move onto my continuing fics if they want to. So, we've still got a ways to go! Thanks for your review!

**Hey **­– yup.

**Birdie **­- smiles Glad you missed me! And I'm back yet once more! BTW, great story on fictionpress!

**A-cat **– As this chapter shows, yes Eva is Marco and Rosa's mom. And yup, my name is Jessica. My email is jessicajessejess, so it was pretty easy to guess once people saw my email. And about Messianic Jews – this is just one sector, I'm not sure about everywhere else. Beit Amit is just one synagogue! smiles

**Wraithlord**** – **Thank you so much for telling me about the rating. I changed it back to PG-13. Thanks again, a lot.

**Anicrazy**** – **Nope, I'm not Jesus. I'm too sinful to be Jesus. She is based off of me, though. Glad you can review, and hope you like this chapter!

**Kharina**** – **Glad you found the fic, and hope you enjoy. Thanks for your review!

Okay… now, just to let you all know, I am going to try and finish this fic before school starts in September. Because once school starts, my fics are going to take a lot more time to update. I don't have an easy history class anymore to write in, so I will have much less time to write. I will try and finish The Healing before school starts as well. And oh yeah – I took out the Papai because I will include that plot in the Healing. So for a count off… this, The Healing, The Summons, The Princess, and then Nadar Chronicles 3. And then everything else. I don't think I can finish all this in highschool… oh well.

And another note: I have the original version of these fics on fictionpress at story title being The Nedar. Please read and review!


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Okay, first off, I'm really sorry for all the mistakes. Yes, I did make Marco and Rosa identical twins, because I needed them to be – otherwise the Yeerks wouldn't be interested in experimenting on them. And Toby Hamee pointed out that I said earlier that Sam was one of her genetic kids – thanks! I did miss that, and now I'll admit that I missed it because I didn't give that chapter to my plot beta, who is hey, who is my sister. I have two betas – one is Wraithlord, who does everything that hey doesn't do.

Anyway, about Sam. Let's call this a KPSU, okay? Not my first… but, anyway, I was going to have a scene where she removed an egg from her uterus and she and Dr. Sam were going to grow Sam Jr. in a test tube, but I realized that I don't know enough about that kind of thing. Hospitals make my knees queasy. So I skipped that scene. Now, you can take this Korean Pearl Screw Up one of two ways. One, we can assume the little boy in the previous chapter was Sam. Two, we can assume that the scene I just mentioned happened, but I forgot to write about it. Either way, it's a screw up. So take your pick.

Now, the story.

Chapter 9:

I stared at the closed elevator door, my mind racing. What was I going to do? What was I going to do? What was I going to –

An open door a few doors back caught my eye and I darted in, not quite realizing what I was going to do, until I thought, _I need a disguise that will get me access to the nursery._

But no fingerprints. I needed a way to disguise the fact that I had ever been here.

I whipped my head around and saw a box of rubber gloves, and then carefully extricated a pair from it. Then I opened the drawer under the immobile hospital bed and pulled out the papery dress that patients wear. I threw that on, trying not to rip it, and then grabbed a pair of sunglasses out of my purse.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and saw that I was still too recognizable. After hesitating for the briefest second, I pulled lipstick out of my purse and applied it hastily to my lips, smacking them twice.

There. I was ready.

I sailed out of the room and began to walk toward the elevator again when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

I turned around and saw my boss.

I began panicking, my mind whirling around. _I can't look like this in front of my boss – he'll think I'm crazy! And we can't afford to lose my job with the number of kids we're taking in…_

And then the craziest of all crazy ideas came to me.

I put my head down and shuffled by a group of people, hoping to pass my boss in the crowd. I passed by an old woman with a hairnet in her hair and snatched it off before sprinting down the hall with it. I turned the corner, hastily shoving my hair in it when I heard my boss's voice say, "Oh, this is the wrong way. We better go back."

I clenched my fists, when I saw the red shirt of a girl who volunteered at the hospital. She was rolling an empty bed towards the elevator and so I sneaked past a few people to her.

"I'll give you a five if you let me in that bed," I whispered, trying not to look crazy. The girl looked at me with a quizzical glance, and then said, "A twenty."

I didn't have anything bigger than a ten! I glanced over my shoulder and saw that my boss was approaching. I didn't have that much time.

"Ten," I finally managed, and the girl nodded. "Deal."

I rummaged through the purse and handed her the money as a thought passed briefly through my mind: How did I get to be dressed up like a freak from a costume show, haggling with a teenage volunteer to let me into a hospital bed to be rolled passed my boss?

I climbed into the bed quickly, pulling the sheets around me as I lay as still as I could with my eyes shut.

"That woman looks rather odd," I heard my boss' voice remark, and then realized with annoyance that he probably wouldn't have recognized me anyways. ****

Too late. The teen was pushing me through the crowded hallways and into the elevator with other people, and I could only lie there and hope that I didn't look like the fool that I felt like.

The overbearing silence told me otherwise.

"Okay," the girl whispered as we got out of the elevator. "I'm putting you in a room."

I didn't reply, but waited for her as she pushed me through a room. The light hit my face and I winced, shutting my eyes even tighter.

"Okay, you're here." She said, and then I heard her retreating footsteps.

I climbed out of the bed and stared at the curtain that was separating me from the door. I couldn't go out like this – I'd probably get put in a ward for the mentally insane. But I couldn't go out just like Helen Foster, either…

The open window provided a solution.

I yanked the three sheets off of the hospital bed, hoping that they could help me climb. Then, trusting the heavens that I wouldn't fall off and die, I undid the screen and stepped onto the ledge. ****

The height made me dizzy, and I grabbed the sill, inching my way up. I needed to get to the next window, that was it, and then the next, just a little bit more…

"Watch out!" I heard a voice shout and startled, my slippery palms slapped at the surface. I opened my mouth to scream, certain that I was going to fall to my death when the sheet that I had wrapped around my body yanked up, apparently caught on something. I grabbed at it with all my might, praying aloud as I pulled myself up with all my strength.

Wait, what was I doing this for, again?

Eva, my mind said. Marco. Rosa.

"Look, she's on the roof!" I heard another voice and I was irrationally reminded of Mulan, a movie that one of my kids had been watching. Now all I needed was for some 300 pound guy to run at me with a sword…

I climbed my way up to the next window, and tapped on it vehemently. It opened up, and I heard the screen clattering as whoever was inside undid it. I reached inside and pulled myself up, sweat gleaming on my neck. I hadn't had a workout like that in years.

The nurse' hand flew up to her mouth when she saw my appearance, and as soon as I was full inside, I said the first thing that came out of my mouth.

"Hands up! And on your knees."

I had always wanted to say that.

The nurse dropped to her knees, her one arm still cradling a baby. I strode forward into the room and then nearly tripped on the sheets that had entangled around my legs. I yanked free, and then picked one up, using it to blindfold the nurse.

"Don't move," I warned her, making my voice gravelly. Desperately I looked inside the room which _looked_ like a nursery, and then I found who I was looking for.

Marco or Rosa, I couldn't tell, but then I checked the identification tag around his wrist and it was Marco.

But where was Rosa?

I heard a shifting sound behind me and I realized that I didn't have that much time. I looked around the room, and grabbed a doctor's coat off a hook. I ripped off the patient's dress and put on the coat. I grabbed Marco with one arm, and then performed the tricky maneuver of opening a door with my elbow before racing down the hallway.

"Hey, you! What are you doing with that baby!" I heard a voice behind me and turned around to see the nurse who had taken Rosa away staring at me. Rosa wasn't with her, my mind noted, but all my feet noted was that my adrenaline had risen and so they tripled their speed.

I dove through people, wove around linked arms, avoided wheelchairs when BAM!

I turned the corner and saw a wheelchair bearing down on me giving me no time whatsoever to stop. I barreled towards her, and at the last second managed to lean forward and dance aside.

But my arms felt lighter.

I looked down and saw that I had dropped Marco.

"Hey, wait!" I shouted at the boy who was also a volunteer. He jerked around and stared goggle-eyed.

I caught up to him, wheezing, and then saw Marco on the old lady's lap.

I grabbed the boy, spun him around, and dumped my hair net and the ripped patient's dress and one of the sheets in his arms.

"Don't look," I said in a deep voice. "I'm part of the FBI and I need you to dispose of these items without being able to identify me. Wait."

I pulled the dress out of his hands and wiped my lipstick on it before handing it back to him.

"Okay, go ahead."

The boy marched around passed the corner without looking and when he was out of sight I pulled my sunglasses off and stuffed them back in my purse. Then with one swoop I threw the sheet over both the old lady in the wheelchair and Marco, straightened out my hair and smartly clasped the wheelchair handles just to see the other nurse barrel down the hallway, stopping short as I brushed passed her.

"Um, excuse me?" she said.

I turned towards her.

"You look… familiar."

"Oh, do I? I'm afraid I don't know you, um, Mrs…"

"Are you sure?" the nurse asked, completely ignoring my attempt to get her name.

"Well," I said, making sure my voice was high and nasally (I would really need a drink once I got out of here), "Perhaps you have seen my sister. We look quite alike."

"Twins?" the nurse suggested. "Identical twins?"

I laughed through my nose. "Oh no, I'm older. I remember when we were teens it used to infuriate me to no end when people thought we were twins."

"Aha," the nurse said, still looking at me. "And what might your name be?"

My mind went completely blank, and then settled on Mulan. "Ping. Dr. Ping."

"Ping?"

"I was adopted," I told her. "And now, if you don't mind, I really have to be going."

I pushed passed her just as a group came, and luckily, they separated us.

"This is insane," I muttered as I pushed the sheet covered wheelchair into an elevator.

And from beneath the sheet, I could have sworn that I heard Marco chuckle.

I pushed the wheelchair into the pick-up area, and then a woman step out of a car waiting there.

"I'm here to pick up my mother," she started, and I threw off the sheet.

The woman started, and then asked, "What was a sheet doing on my mother?"

I gestured her forward and then said in a whisper, "You know. The radioactivity levels have been high, lately."

The woman's eyebrows rose, and then for a moment I panicked. I knew her – it was Naomi – oh, would she recognize me –

"And the baby?" she said skeptically.

"Extra protection."

I leaned over to pick up Marco and saw that the woman had been dozing contentedly the entire time.

"No worse for the wear," I said cheerfully. "Have a nice day!"

I turned and left.

Once inside the lobby I pulled out my cell phone and called Sam, skipping the details saying only, "I need you to pick Eva and me up."

"Didn't Eva give birth today or something?" he wondered out loud, and too exhausted to reply, I nodded, and then realized that he couldn't see.

"Yeah," I said. "Just go into Room 203 and put her in a wheelchair and roll her out. Just act pushy and you'll get your way."

"Oh… Helen, is there something you're not telling me?"

I looked at the doctor's coat I was wearing, and then Marco who was smiling in my arms. "No, I'm not just not telling you something, I'm not telling you anything. At all. Come pick me up, Sam, I'm tired."

"Ok, Helen. I'll be right there."

We never found Rosa.

I didn't tell Eva, and I'm not exactly sure why. She didn't know that she had given birth to twins, and I guess I told myself that I wanted to ease her pain.

But I think I was just scared.

Scared that once she found out that she had a daughter as well, that she would want to look for her. And then the Yeerks would be alerted, and I didn't want to lose Eva to the Yeerks.

But still, sometimes, I would look out the window at the rain, and wonder, where is that little girl? Is she cold? Frightened? Hungry?

Dead?

After I told Sam, he had assured me that it wasn't my fault. I had gone to the extreme to get Marco back, and it wasn't my fault that I hadn't gotten Rosa as well.

But something deeper within me said, Wait. Wait. Rosa is part of my plan, and I need you to wait. Everything will unfold, everything will be made known. But for now, wait.

And so I waited, thoughts of Rosa slumbering in my heart until she too became a distant memory.

**Review Responses**

Whew! That's done. Okay, not many notes here. I'm going to wrap up The Shrink in maybe… let's see… Well, actually, I want to end this fic soon, so let's say one more chapter. I know that I said two or three in my note in The Healing, but… wait. I have to do J.P, then meeting Maya, then Sam dying, so… another chapter or two. We'll see.

**Hj**– I'm sorry that you think that the rest of the fic is bad… do you think you could give me specifics? I can't improve unless I have concrete stuff to mull over. Tell me exactly what I need to work on, and I'll work on it!

**Anicrazy**** – **Actually, Rosa is going to show up in another one of my fics. I don't want to spoil too much, but she will show up. I mean, otherwise, what would be the point of her existing? Ok, I'm babbling. Thanks for your review!

**Toby – **I hope my author's notes up above clear some stuff up. Sorry about that! And yeah – I knew that some kids are born prematurely, but it was more of a thing that Eva was not really responsive while giving birth and the staff needed someone that they could refer to. I just made it 8 months so that Marco's dad wouldn't be around then, since they wouldn't be expecting the birth early. And yeah, my school starts in September. I thought that was normal…

**HFN – **Thanks for your review and I'm glad you like this fic!

**Kharina**** – **Here's the next chapter – thanks for your review!

**A-cat **– Wow, you read my mind. Hope you liked this rescue! I mentioned how the kid could be Sam, earlier, but either way works. And here's an update!

**Kerry – **Thanks for all your reviews! I'm glad that you like this story and here's the update!

**Flame-Of-Life – **Nice penname. And are you going to start the Elemaki fic? I'd like to read it, if you do!

**Hey **– love you too.

**Adi**** Gallia1 **– Yay, new reviewer! I'm glad you like this fic – here's the next chapter!

**Birdie – **LOL! Next chapter is here, and thanks for your review!

**Lady of Romantic Dreams – **Thanks for the note – I explained in my Author's note that I'm going to ignore that bit of science and keep going. Thanks for pointing it out though!

**Eyes of Forest – **Yay! Thanks for the muffin, and here's the update!

**Tabatha**** – **Sure, I'll tell you guys if I get something published. I'll put your names in my appreciation page. **smiles** And here's Sam's reaction, although it's been a few years since she told him.

"Sam," I whispered, almost urgently. I wanted to tell him, so badly, but what if he didn't believe?

No more what-ifs, my mind ordered, and obediently, I shut them away.

"Sam," I called again.

He was at my side instantly.

"What is it?"

I looked at the rising moon, and realized that this was the first time that we had ever been alone together. I had called him to my room after that dream…

I shuddered, and forced Joshua's bloody face out of my mind. In my dream he had killed himself in a much worse way…

"Sam, I need to tell you something."

"What?"

Haltingly, almost bitterly, the words fell from what felt like frozen lips. Why couldn't I tell him easily? He shared his life with me so easily, but why couldn't I?

"I never told you about my family, did I?"

Sam shook his head hesitantly.

And so I told him.

I told him of the intense hatred that I had nourished in my heart. I told him of the sorrow and pain I had felt at Joshua's passing. I told him how I had abused my body, how I had turned to sex and drugs and the occult to ease my pain, not knowing that they only increased it a hundredfold.

Sam was silent the entire time, reaching out only once with a trembling hand to wipe away a tear that slowly coursed down my cheek.

Oh, Sam…

And then I told him about the Yeerks.

"Wait a second," he said, stopping me. "You mean aliens? On earth?"

I nodded, closing my eyes, waiting for him to denounce me as crazy.

"Oh, Helen, you must have gone through Hell," he whispered. "Helen…"

He grasped my hand, and held it tightly as I looked up through teary eyelashes. He believed me…

I saw nothing out of his face and eyes except the sincerity that permeated all his actions.

He stayed silent again while I choked out the remainder of my story, and then when I looked up, I was surprised to see tears glistening down his cheeks. Leaning forward, he brushed away my hair from my face, and looked directly into my eyes.

"I love you," he told me. "And I'm glad you told me about your life."

He hesitated, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to kiss me, and I held myself still.

But he stopped himself, and shook his head.

"I won't use you," Sam said, half to himself, and then helped me back into my bed. "We can tell the others tomorrow."

I smiled at him as he slipped away into the night, and when I dreamed again, it wasn't of Joshua's bloody face, but of Sam, and of his kindness.

Okay, hope that helps. It turned out to be more fluff then anything else, but I don't think you'll mind.

Review please!


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Notes: Hey, I'm back. I've decided that Sam is a birth kid, I just never typed out the scene of the test tube thing. And sorry about the scene at the end there… I think it confused a lot of people. Tabatha had mentioned wanting to read Sam's reaction to Helen's story, and since I hadn't had that in the fic, I wrote up a special something for her. I do that sometimes, as clarification points, or if people wanted to read a reaction and they didn't get a good enough one. For example, I wrote one for DH explaining better why Maya joined the Animorphs. Anyway, the story.

Chapter 10:

"Helen?"

I looked up from where I had been playing with Cyndi, a new girl who had just arrived. "What is it, Sam?"

"I'd like you to meet J.P."

I glanced at the boy next to my husband, and was greeted with a sullen face. A tough one, I thought. But nothing I can't handle.

"So you're a shrink, too?" J.P. asked rudely.

I signaled Sam to be quiet, and then stepped forward, looking into the boy's eyes.

His eyes shifted, and for a moment I saw a flash of fear that turned into contempt.

This boy was hiding something.

"No," I said. "I'm a mother who works as a shrink so our family can go on vacations. We live on Dr. Sam's income, we play on mine."

I paused and said, "Are you staying with us?"

"A live-in," Sam said. "A different father."

J.P's eyes flashed. "I already have a father," he mumbled.

I nodded, and noted Sam's code words in my mind. A live-in: a child who would live with us as adopted, but one who wasn't legally. A different father – the opposite of an indifferent father. Meant that this boy was either so much of a rebel that his true father couldn't cope with him or his true father had sent his son to us to try and figure out what was wrong with him. Either way, J.P's father wasn't an uncaring man. Good to know.

"So, J.P," I said. "Tell me about yourself."

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" he almost spat. "Because I decided to quit Tae Kwon Do because there were too many risks in going there for a career. And then my dad sends me to a shrink because he thinks I'm going crazy since I've done Tae Kwon Do all my life. He doesn't _consider _that _maybe _I changed my mind."

I heard him speak, and then decided to test him. "Really? That's very impressive. You didn't seem at first like one of those teens who are responsible enough to care about the future."

Another flash of fear and uncertainty passed over the boy's eyes, and my suspicion was almost confirmed.

A boy, who decided - after a lifetime of work – to quit the one sport he loved? A boy who looked fearful every time I probed more deeply into his attitude? This fear wasn't the typical fear that I came across in an abused child. This fear was the fear of being discovered.

"Well, what else do you do?" I asked him cheerfully. "Any clubs? Any other activities?"

The boy's eyes brightened. "Well, I _do _belong to this club called The Sharing. Now _that_ club is really cool. I wouldn't mind working for The Sharing for the rest of my life."

Bingo.

"Really?" I said, keeping my voice completely normal. "It sounds interesting. I think I've heard of it before, actually. Seen a flyer or two on it."

"Yeah," J.P. gushed. "It's a really sweet club. And it's good for families, too. Maybe all of you could come."

"Does it promote respect?" I asked subtly.

J.P. looked at me quickly. "Well, yeah, it does, but I think I know better then my dad in this situation."

With a few questions, I had cornered this boy. In this world, there are abusive parents. These parents do not know better. There are indifferent parents. These parents may or may not know better – they just don't care.

But the majority of parents do know better than their children. And they care for their children. They love their children. Sure, there is tension as the child grows. But always, always, they want the best for their children.

I would have considered J.P. a fool if I hadn't known that it was actually a Yeerk who was controlling his tongue.

"Well, I'm not sure I'd want to join a club that didn't teach my children to respect my opinions," I said reasonably. "But come inside, J.P. We're about to have dinner."

The boy hesitated, and Sam quickly said, "We're having Indian food."

J.P.'s eyes lit up. "I love Indian food!"

And so with Indian food, we lured J.P. into our house. We showed him our many foster children, our adopted children, and my one birth son Sam, whom I treated exactly the same as my other children. We opened up a door of love and warmth and respect that I knew would win any other child his age over.

But the Yeerk held out, and I used this to probe again.

"J.P., why are you so stiff?" I asked one night as the family was eating popcorn and watching a movie. "It's been a week now, since you've been with us, and _any other boy_ would have relaxed already."

I saw panic in his eyes – the Yeerk's main objective was to appear like _any other boy_. But J.P.'s Yeerk laughed it off.

"Well, I'm not a _loser _like some…" he started, but stopped, already unsure of what expected behavior was. He glanced sideways at me, and I smiled, hoping to confuse the Yeerk.

"I don't know," J.P.'s mouth finally said. "I just don't know."

Sam took him on a camping trip the next day – only for two days, of course, he explained to the Yeerk.

But he told me quite a different story.

Three days after Sam left on the trip, I received a phone call from him.

"J.P.'s free. I dropped him off in the next city and gave him some money. He's old enough – nineteen – to take care of himself. I'm going to make it look like he committed suicide now."

I gave Sam my blessing, prayed for J.P., picked up a phone book and dialed J.P.'s father, inviting him over for dinner.

That night, we began the Resistance.

An old name, or so I told my most recently adopted daughter. A name that has been used for centuries to describe a pitiful alliance that resisted a much more powerful force.

J.P's father believed me only after Sam came home with a dracon beam he had found on J.P. My husband showed it to the boy's father, and he grasped it, vowing, "I will fight them."

I ran into a woman at a grocery store – literally ran into her. She flickered out for a moment, and I saw metal steel and iron before the woman was able to put up her hologram again.

Her name was Ruth King, and through her we created the rest of the Resistance. It wasn't much, only a few people here and there who gave each other hope and who would hold people they knew for certain to be involuntary controllers down for three days and then give them money to help them escape.

Only one person died – a Controller had hanged himself since the Yeerk had preferred that to Kadrona starvation.

Two years passed. We adopted more children, some children graduated, some returned to their parents, I got promoted, Sam had a dream.

He woke me up one night while I lay curled up like a fetus, comfortable in my warmth and unwilling to wake up.

"Helen, Helen, wake up!" he said excitedly. "I had a dream."

"That's great," I murmured. "Tell me about it when I wake up."

"No, I have to tell you now before I forget. There was this old man with blue wings."

I turned sleepily to face him. "I knew there was something wrong in the pizza we ate last night."

He glared at me, and then said, "This creature said, 'Go to the city where you dropped off J.P. Someone is waiting for you.'"

I shivered, and whispered, "Yeerks?"

"I don't think so," Sam said, reaching out to comfort me with his touch. "Maybe J.P."

"So we're going to this city because of a dream you had?" I asked, slightly annoyed. _Can I just sleep?_

_Besides, I don't want to go. I'm still terrified of the Yeerks – don't you know that? I got lucky in the end, but the Controllers that we save – their stories are horrible. Can't you see that, Sam?_

My husband pulled me in closer to him, almost as if he had heard my words and was reassuring me with his love.

"Don't worry," he said. "Everything is going to be okay."

So I slept on, lulled to sleep by his soft singing – he had a gorgeous voice – and I too dreamed of a little old man with blue wings who looked at me and said, "Take care of them."

* * *

We drove in silence the entire way to the city.

We had left the kids under the charge of Eamon, a boy who was due to graduate soon. He had assured us that he would watch the kids, and as we pulled away, I realized how much I trusted him to watch over some five kids, the youngest of whom was six.

I didn't think I would have trusted myself with kids at his age.

Sam drove up to the beach where he had dropped off J.P. two years ago and we parked, watching the sun set over the sea. The colors of the dying sun spilled over the horizon and splashed into the sea, coloring it the same blood red.

I pulled open the door and shook my head. "Sam, I don't think we should come. It's been two years since you dropped J.P. off, we don't know if he's here anymore or not."

"I already told you, Helen," he said, looking at me, and then opening the door. "I know, but I had a dream that someone was waiting for us. Even if we don't find J.P., we will find someone."

Someone.

My fear of the Yeerks intensified, almost paralyzing me and I just barely stopped myself from shivering. _I don't want to be here…._

Distracted from the surroundings, I didn't notice the two children until they were right in front of us.

I looked at them, and analyzed their bold features. There was a girl and a boy, the boy a little younger but almost the same height.

The girl had thin brown hair that was matted and tangled, tied back only with a piece of dirty string. Her eyes were slightly slanted like the boy's next to her, although her eyes were brown, while his were black. The boy had thick black hair that he kept shaking to get out of his eyes, and I noticed almost as an afterthought that he really needed a haircut.

"We're the ones you are looking for," the girl told us.

Sam looked at them intensely, and then for reasons I will never know, said, "Yes, you are."

We took them in our car, the girl and the boy, and they introduced themselves as Maya and Oscar. They were very polite, quite well-spoken and didn't curse.

I was surprised.

I explained how they could call us Helen and Sam, or Mom and Dad, and they politely agreed to call us Mom and Dad.

And I think it was at that moment that I began to despair.

I had met so many kids, adopted so many, been a mother to so many, and none of them had ever willingly relinquished their old parents. Even those who had been abused – they _had _parents, they just hated them.

But these children who didn't even care about us being their mother and father… Maya was looking out the window as if memorizing the route back to our city, and Oscar was gaping at the car. They didn't even _seem _to care about us. They weren't trying not to care, as many children did. They just _didn't._

They didn't seem like children.

The girl especially, was a cool one. Our eyes met once, and she looked at me, looked me over, and then unperturbedly glanced away. No worries. It worried _me_ for a moment, that I might be allowing some serial killer into my home, but I remembered that Maya was twelve, and so felt a little bit better.

But not much.

She looked over our foster children, nodded, and turned away. She shrugged when we gave her a name – a _name, honestly _– something that would define her for the rest of her life.

But she was a child, and so I would love her, just as I loved all my children.

Still, something about her made me feel very uneasy. Was she a child?

No, I decided that night after everyone had gone to bed. She wasn't a child. She had too much self-control.

**Review Responses**

Maya's back! And I'm in pain. Not so much as pain as a few hours ago, but a lot of pain. I had my wisdom teeth pulled this morning, and so I've been bleeding continuously through my mouth and the gauze that I stick in my mouth to stop the bleeding comes out soaking red. I read a few fics and started to laugh at the funny parts in Waffles4Eva's fic, We are not alone! but stopped, because I remembered I had stitches in my mouth.

Which are really annoying, by the way. I'm eating rice mixed in water because that's what Koreans (or half-Koreans, in my case) eat when they can't chew and I have to chase the little ricelets all around my mouth with a tongue that until recently was numb. It was really weird, actually. My entire face was swollen and I could pinch my bottom lip and chin really hard and not feel anything because of the stuff they gave me. It felt like I was touching someone else's chin. Now they're relatively back to normal although my cheeks aren't and I can't talk without whimpering in pain.

I really don't know why I'm talking about this.

**Birdie – **Does Marco ever get to meet Rosa? Well, that's The Healing is about! I'll get back to that eventually. I think two more chapters for The Shrink, and then on to The Healing! Anyway, thanks for your review, and here's the next chapter!

**Eyes of Forest **– Thanks for your review – glad you liked that chapter. And oh! I had a question for you. Have you read the other fics in my Nadar Chronicles series? Because they are all about this girl, Maya, and so I was wondering. And here's the update!

**Dracula0 – **Yup, there's going to be more! You should take a look at my bio – I'm going to be writing on this series until I get married, or something. And I'm glad you like this fic – here's the update!

**Hey** – Apologies, I didn't wait for you for this one.

**A-cat** - Yup, Rosa will show up in The Healing. And about the sonogram, let's see, I could switch back to then time and say that the 60 – 70's didn't have that good technology… I actually didn't think about that. Eva doesn't know that Rosa exists, which is an important part in The Healing as well. And sorry about the confusing part at the end – that was for Tabatha, who wanted to know Sam's reaction, earlier on when she told the family about her past. Anyway, thanks for your review, and here's the next chapter!

**Anicrazy**** – **Sorry about the confusion – that scene was earlier, and was written upon request by Tabatha. Thanks for your review, though!

**H-F-N – **Glad you like the connections. And thanks for your review – here's the update!

**Waffles **– Yup, this story is continuing. Here's more Helen, and Helen will continue to come!

**East Coast Ryder – **Actually, you raise a very interesting question. I was originally going to use the name Mira for Maya, but at the last moment, when I started writing the fic, I couldn't remember the name "Mira." So I used Maya instead. And later, when I looked up the name Maya, it gave me a very interesting definition that will be fitting with the next half of the series. If you want a spoiler, look up her name on babynames dot com. What name dictionary did you use, BTW? The definition I got was a different one. Anyway, thanks for your review and here's the update!

So, I'm going to try and finish this up, so if you review really quickly, then I can update really quickly. Ok? Deal? ::tries not to sound too bubbly:: I found a new way to do stars so I don't have to make it bold now, which makes me happy. But reviews will make me happier…

And I have nineteen people who have me on their favs list! You know how incredibly incredible it would be if I got nineteen reviews for each chapter. ::faints at the thought of it::

Ok, go hit that review button, now that I've got you all pumped up!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

They got into fights every single day.

The first day of school. The _first _day of school. I heard about Maya's fight from Ruth King, whose daughter, Jenny King, had befriended Maya. Maya got away with it – who knows how – but Oscar got a detention for his fighting.

They perplexed me, they really did. They went mad over the waffles and syrup we had the next day – Maya actually began squirting the syrup into her mouth while Oscar wolfed down the waffles until I thought he would choke.

And when I took them shopping once, they started eating the raw eggs right out of the carton.

Street life, I assumed. It was sad, actually. That these kids had never eaten an egg. I cooked every variety of egg I knew for them, in hopes that they wouldn't try that stunt again.

But if they weren't around food, they were so cold. Unbelievably distant. After we caught them stealing once we realized that they had grown up with absolutely no morals whatsoever.

But underneath their steely front, there was love. I knew it, when I found out that the stuff they had been stealing was for their street kids that they left behind.

Sam tapped into their love better than I ever could. The boy, Oscar – he clung to Maya as if she were his mother. No, more than a mother – almost like a wife that held in her hands the purpose to his life.

But still, I couldn't figure her out. There was something about her, from the way she loved to work in our garden, to her excessive eating habits which she always controlled through strict exercise – "I need to be fit," I heard her tell Oscar once.

But fit for what? As far as I could tell all she did was go to the mall after school with Jenny. She didn't do anything that required a lot of energy.

Until that one day I found her in the car of a high schooler with only an undershirt on.

"Where is Maya?" I wondered aloud as I set down the groceries on our kitchen table.

Oscar looked up. "She said she'd be at the mall with Jenny."

"_Again?_" I asked. "How many times can one visit that mall?"

Oscar shrugged, and went back to reading his book. Sighing, I picked up the phone and dialed Ruth's number, hoping that she could tell me Jenny's cell phone number so I could contact Maya and tell her to come home.

Jenny picked up.

"Hello, King's residence, how may I help you?" her sweet voice said on the other line.

"_Jenny?_" I asked, incredulously. "I thought you were at the mall with Maya."

"No, I'm not," she replied, sounding confused. "Was I supposed to be?"

"Well, she's missing," I told her. "I better go to the mall and see if she's there."

I called Sam and he said that if I couldn't find Maya at the mall he would call the police for him. Worried, and beginning to feel anxious – what if the Yeerks got her? – I got into the car and drove away.

On my way there, I pulled up next to a convertible which had stopped at a red light and I happened to glance over.

There was Maya, sitting in the front seat with a teenaged boy wearing a cap.

I was furious! How dare she go off consorting without telling me where she was going! And on top of that, why was she only wearing an undershirt? And she wasn't even wearing her seatbelt!

I rolled down my window and said with suppressed fury, "Maya Lancing. What are you doing – and who is that young man, and where is your shirt?!"

She gave me the biggest smile I ever saw her smile. What made me even angrier was that there was no guilt in her eyes – none whatsoever – as she said, pointing to the boy driving the car, "This is Jag. Mom, meet Jag. Jag, meet Mom."

Jag tipped his baseball cap at me, and said, "How do you do, ma'am?"

I completely ignored him and focused on Maya who was actually smiling. Did she know how worried I had been! That girl…

"Maya, you are in big trouble. You know how worried Dad and I were? You told us you were going to the mall with Jenny, and here we find you in the car of a stranger! We called Jenny and you weren't with her! Young lady, you are grounded for the next month. No mall trips, and you have to come straight home after school."

The boy chuckled, and she glared at him while I said, "Maya, get in this car right now."

She stepped in, and as the light turned green I started to speed away. Jag, the boy smirked and called out, "See ya, Princess," as I stepped on the gas.

Princess? What in the world? Was he talking to me?

Whatever. It didn't matter. Right now, only Maya mattered.

And she had broken through the thin ice and was drowning in hot water now.

I heard Maya open her mouth to speak, so I cut her off with, "No. I don't want to hear any of your excuses or lies. Don't say a single word until we get home."

We drove silently the rest of the way home, as I grew more and more suspicious of Maya's activities. How many of Maya's "mall trips" had actually been "mall trips?" What had she been doing with that guy, who was at least five years older than her?

And what had happened to her shirt?

Sam was waiting for us in the living room, and I ushered Maya in. Sam Jr. made some stupid joke about Maya being in trouble, and I gave him a Look. "Samuel Lancing Jr. go upstairs immediately."

I walked over to the kitchen and began unpacking the groceries when I heard Maya tell my husband, "J.P. says thank you."

I instantly grabbed the first knife I saw and rushed over to the living room, my fear taking control of me. I held it at her throat – how did she know about J.P.?! – and whispered furiously, "I'll kill you before I get infested again. I'll kill you!"

"Helen," Sam said disapprovingly.

"I'm not a Controller," Maya said. "I'm an alien."

"Explain," I hissed, not moving.

She looked at me, and said, "Ok. Ok. It's going to take a while, but ok."

"My story really starts with my mother's story. She was an Elemaki – a member of the inferior race on the Andalite Home World. She "got married" to Alloran-Semitur-Corass. Yes, Visser 3. Actually, he was an aristh then, and the other soldiers would have made fun of him if he hadn't mated with an Elemaki female – these soldiers were on a recruiting mission and one of their assignments was to take all the males as conscripts and to rape and kill all the females.

"Well, my mother survived. Alloran didn't kill her, obviously. She had twins – me and a brother, named Osgaron.

Maya was silent for a moment, and then she said, "Andalite soldiers set the Elemaki grazing lands on fire, and my mother – Mamai – died so that Osgaron and I would escape the fire. Even so, we became vecols – I lost my eye-stalks, and Osgaron lost his tail. We wandered around for the next two years, until an Andalite enslaved us. The family that owned us had a son, named Xelaman who used my brother as what you would call a punching bag, although he was more of a target for tail strikes.

"I lost control. I cut off Xelaman's tail, and they killed my brother for it. Then… I met this dude named the Ellimist."

My voice caught, and she looked at me. "You know him?"

I nodded.

"Oh. Well, anyway, this guy, he told me that he wanted me to be happy. Then he showed me some five-year-old humans and how happy they were. He promised to make me a five-year-old human."

Maya grinned crookedly. "He sure did. About three years later. I lived by myself for those three years until I ran into this guy name Solethi. He was a Nadar."

"A Nadar?" asked Sam.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain. Let me transmit the memory to you."

I nodded, and removed the knife from her throat, reasonably convinced. She beckoned Sam to come closer, and then she put her hands on our foreheads.

We waited, and when her memories flowed from her fingers to our minds, I knew that Maya hadn't been lying.

_I waited for three years. _

_Three years of running. __Three years of hiding. __Three years of torture. _

_Three years of hating. _

_I stumbled along a grassy plain, unaware of where I was going. The mud in my eyes half-blinded me, and the thick coating on my fur didn't help with my balance. I dropped to my side, trying to scrape off as much mud as I could off my body, and with it the humiliating scenes that kept playing over and over in my mind. The Andalite children shoving me, leading me to a mud pit that took me hours to get out of. _

_My hand pulled out the bit of fur that had been my brother's from my side. I had tied it onto my fur in order to keep it more securely and had often risked my life to hold onto it. I tried to clean it the best I could, but without water it was impossible. Instead, I created a tight loop and put it on my smallest finger. There. Now it would stay. _

_ What are you doing here? _

_I scrambled to my hooves, and bowed my head, wishing I had eyestalks to bow. I apologize, Master Andalite. _

_A hand lifted up my chin. Two thumbs scraped off some of the mud that covered my face. A half-breed, he murmured, almost to himself. A female. And a vecol. _

_Yes. I am a half-breed female vecol. You just forgot to add that I'm an Elemaki. _

_As if hearing my thoughts, he echoed thoughtfully, an Elemaki. Then, follow me. _

_ I numbly followed him, not daring to refuse. He led me further into his scoop, which was devoid of children. _

_ Yelana! he called, and a female Andalite came out. Solethi! she scolded. Why are you forcing the poor child to stand there? Come, she beckoned to me. _

_Dazed, I followed her into a waterfall, where the Andalite female washed me. Were these really Andalites? Was I dreaming? Or was I dead? The Andalite female – Yelana, she was called – finished washing me, then led me out, where the male was waiting. Take it easy on her, Yelana told her husband. She's still dazed. _

_Take it easy on me? Was he going to hurt me? Solethi must have seen me draw back in fear, because he was instantly soothing me. No, no, I'm not going to hurt you. _

_How did he know what I was thinking? I don't know what you're thinking, I- He could read my mind! _

_ No, no, he soothed. I can't read your mind. _

_But you are! He sighed, while Yelana laughed. You had better explain it to her, Solethi. Solethi bowed his eyestalks in assent and turned to me. I am a Nadar. _

_A Nadar! Those warriors that are disgraces because of their love of war and death! Those Andalites that are exiled, or worse, treated like Elemaki! _

_ I do not love war anymore, child. _

_This was frightening, but getting interesting. I wasn't saying a word, yet we were still maintaining a conversation. _

_ Yes, he answered. I know that it is odd to have me answer your thoughts, as it seems. I merely read your facial and body expressions. _

_I know my incredulity showed that time because Solethi sighed again, and said, Believe me. It is a skill every Nadar eventually acquires. A genetic disease. Once you start to go to war, you can't leave it alone, and therefore you acquire a whole slew of special skills. One of which is to read body expressions. It takes some time, but yes, eventually every Nadar gets it. _

_I spoke for the first time since I met him. But I thought- _

_ Yes, he interrupted, you thought Nadar were blood-thirsty warriors. This is only partially true. His speech took a more scholarly tone. There are, in actuality, three types of Nadar. 1st generation, 2nd generation, and 3rd generation, or 1st gen, 2nd gen, and 3rd gen respectively. _

_He paused for a moment, then continued. 3rd gen Nadar are those you would have heard of. They are the war-loving warriors like me. Solethi looked grim as he continued with a, since I'm a celebrated war hero they couldn't kill me or exile me so instead they forced me into retirement last year, once they found out I was a Nadar. _

_ But why- I started. _

_ Why do they exile or kill Nadar? Well... oh, come, don't be annoyed. Your body language is so apparent. Your whole body was showing annoyance at being interrupted. And how did I know that you were going to ask that specific question? It's the only logical question to ask, and your face showed puzzlement after I said that most Nadar are exiled for being Nadar, so I made an assumption. _

_I stared at him. _

_ Well anyway, he continued, the government is scared of Nadar, because we are the perfect killers. 3rd gen are war lovers. 2nd gen are the apathetic killers. Killing is like breathing air to them. If you try and take the fighting away, they'll fight for it or die. If you give them more, they'll breathe it. Other than that, they don't care. 1st gen, now they scare me. Absolutely cold-blooded killers. They have horrible childhoods, and they are ruthless. 2nd gen usually are pretty miserable too, but they won't kill as often as they will, so they are not as bad as 1st gen who kill every chance they get. _

_My mind whirled. War-loving warriors. Apathetic killers. Ruthless murderers. _

_Solethi continued his lecture. No one really knows how many Nadar there are, since there doesn't seem to be a pattern of Nadar birth – 3rd gen Nadar have a genetic disease, but this disease is random – it tends to skip multiple generations, affecting only one person out of an entire family. 1st and 2nd gen Nadar are more common however. Wherever there is unhappiness, there will be 1st and 2nd gen Nadar. What does this have to do with you? he asked, again reading the question in my body. Well, after I was forced to retire, I began transporting Elemaki to the Island. _

_I stared at him again. The Island... a legendary place that Elemaki were free, the place that civilization was supposed to have started on the Andalite Home World. The Andalites attacked the Island over and over again, but somehow the Elemaki disappeared, even when the Andalites sent entire armies to wipe them out. I had never even considered once that it would be Andalites that smuggled Elemaki to freedom. _

_But who else? Elemaki couldn't – they had no power. But Andalites? My confusion must have obvious because Solethi smiled again. All Andalites are not evil, he said gently. They are just children, misled children who act evil because they are taught to be so. I have traveled far and seen many civilizations. Unlike other warriors I studied them in order to defeat them, and I learned to see their ways. _

"I am a Nadar," Maya repeated. "A first generation Nadar. I live to fight, and I fight to die. And it was Earth that finally pushed me over the edge – it was on Earth that I became a Nadar."

**Review Responses**

Dun dun dun…

Okay, mostly a summary for everybody who hasn't read the rest of my fics. I copied that italicized bit out of Nadar Chronicles Part 1: Andalite Home World because it shows quite well what a Nadar is, and the next chapter coming up will be more on Maya's life on Earth. I'm going to copy and paste the scene where she gets the ring because that's a pretty important scene. Then we switch back to the present, with Helen. ::checks list:: Now after the ring scene, Maya's summary of life on Earth, then we have the torture scene from Helen's point of view, then Sam's death, and then a brief summary of Maya's previous missions. So… two more chapters, I think. I'm trying to get this done before school… one more week. One good thing about having wisdom teeth pulled – I'm not required by my mother to do any summer work, so I can write. Which is why this chapter is coming up so soon.

And oh yeah – if you want to read the scene about Maya with Jag, read Chapter 22 in The Nadar Chronicles Part 2: Earth

**Flame – **Hi! And yes, that was you. Coming back Nadar Chronicles 3… yeah, I think so, although you're more likely to come back in Mayanites: Nadar and Kyan. And thanks for the cookie! Sorry I couldn't decode the message. I did find "story" in there, though.

**Tabatha**** – **Yay, you're back! Glad you liked the bit with Sam, and thanks about Helen! This chapter will show a little bit more about Helen's powers of analysis. And The Healing will have stuff on the Rosa. And yeah, my cheeks are all swollen up, but at least I don't have to work!

**A-cat – **I'm glad you liked how Helen perceived Maya. I've been waiting to write about how Maya seems to other people, and that will show up in other fics as well! And does Maya ever love her foster mother… not yet, as far as we can tell, but you know, Maya is only, like, fourteen, I think. Seventeen year old Elemaki mind, if you want to be specific. And this isn't really how Helen would be saying it to Maya – this is more of a story format that Jordan writes. Yes, Jordan. I know that makes no sense right now, but wait until Mayanites: Nadar and Kyan and it will. Helen is just talking about her life normally, and I'm converting it to novel format. And thanks about the teeth – not so much pain now, although I look like Mulan did when Mooshu shoved noodles and rice in her mouth.

**East Coast Ryder – **behindthename dot com – thanks, I'll look at it! I always use babynames dot com. Glad you liked this chapter – thanks for your review, and here's the update!

**Eyes of Forest – **Thanks for your review! And I can tell from the bots that you are working your way through the rest of my fics, so this summary will be pretty much obsolete. And yes, I do check out stories if you just mention them. I generally check out my reviewers stories anyway, but if you mention it then it helps remind me better. I'll go look at it right now!

Okay! Anyway, I'm trying to average ten reviews per chapter, so if you could help me do that, it would be really great. ::tries to look pleadingly but realizes that she just looks like a fool with chipmunk cheeks::

::smiles painfully:: The faster you review, the faster I'll get the next chappie up!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

"I got captured, eventually," Maya's clear and steady voice continued. "And I got sent to a factory, basically. Where Elemaki worked. And then, I ran into the Ellimist again. Here, I'll give you another memory transfer."

Once more we were plunged into Maya's world, a world where she had just been a child trapped in anguish and bitter defeat.

But this one incident changed her life forever.

What do you want from this child, I asked the Ellimist silently. Why is she so important that you go to all this effort to ensure that she comes to Earth – comes to me, and the Animorphs.

I was shocked beyond belief when the Ellimist actually answered my question.

_We are fighting over her,_ he said quietly, as Maya's memories began washing over my mind. _We both want her on our side._

We?

_Crayak and I._

I sensed an image of a red eye, part machine, part biological, and I shuddered.

He wants her?

_Yes. And so do I. That is why we give her gifts. That is why we play with her. She holds the key to something that Crayak does not want._

What does Crayak not want, I asked the Ellimist, simply curious now.

_He does not want her to find love._

Find love? How – what? What did he mean?

_Crayak had a finger in your pie, as well, _the Ellimist told me. _He wanted to make you into a Nadar, so you would not be there to adopt Maya. But I chose Issip and Sam as my players, and so he was defeated. Now it is his turn again in this game._

Game? What was he talking about?

_Crayak and I play games, Helen. Everywhere. With anybody. But there is one game that we play that designates all these side games. And Maya is the key._

I waited, my breath held.

_Maya will be a part of a new creation. A part of something new – something loving._

What was he talking about?

_I cannot tell you all. But I did not want Maya to become a Nadar. Crayak won that battle, but I will win the war. Maya will be a part of this new creation, even as a Nadar._

Ellimist, I said silently. I don't know what you're talking about.

_Wait,_ he said. _It will all be made clear in the end._

Puzzled, I turned my thoughts away from the Ellimist, and focused on Maya's memory of her working in the Elemaki factory braiding metal strips together.

_ Ow! I cried as the metal cut the inside of one of my fingers. The blood spilled over the metal and I mentally cursed myself._

_Great. I was going to be in so much trouble._

_DAUGHTER OF SARANAI AND ALLORAN._

_The blood flowed backward, back into my finger, and it healed itself as I watched in astonishment._

_I wanted to scream, but my long habits of deference and silence held me. Instead, I looked around the room for him, and saw that everyone but me was frozen in place._

_A little boy was there, frozen as he bent over his work._

_Osgaron. He was Osgaron's age. When he died._

_Scream at him! Who cares if it is the Ellimist! Osgaron is your brother!_

_Was._

_But I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't even remind him of his promise three years ago._

_The Ellimist said nothing else, but the room began spinning around me, forcing me to close my eyes. When I opened them, I was standing in a room._

_It was an odd room, medium-sized and covered with a light gray grass that gave off no nutrients._

_An alien was sitting on a table; it seemed like, although there were several soft layers of something covering the table._

_Human, that was it. The alien was a human. It had been three years and I could still clearly remember when I had looked down on their planet Earth and seen them, seen them..._

_Happy._

_This human that was staring at me... I was no Nadar, so I couldn't tell how it was feeling. But still..._

_I could sense happiness coming from the creature. Happiness and peace._

_Two things that would never be mine._

_The human lifted itself up on its two legs. "Hi, um, who are you?" I jumped at the sound of its voice. Startled, I blurted the first thing that came into my mind. You make sounds like a kafit bird with that hole in your face, yet I can understand you._

_Then remembering that I was an Elemaki, I said, I'm sorry, I mean, my name is Mayanamar-Semitur-Aventa. _

_What in the world made me give her my full name?_

_Going back to the why I had three names in the first place._

_We observed each other carefully, and then the human spoke. "Greetings, Mayanamar. My name is Maya Lancing Hesser. I am a female human, or am now. I used to be..."_

_Her voice faltered off. What did she mean she was a human now? I prompted her with a what? _

_The human looked at me for a moment, and then closed her eyes, concentrating on something._

_She shriveled up rapidly, making me gasp, while wings shot out of where her shoulders used to be. Once she was a full kafit bird she reversed this transformation, back into the human that she had been._

_The human then pulled a green-blue band off of her finger, and said, "This is for you," as she walked toward me._

_I stared for a minute, in awe at the balance that this creature had. Forgetting my position, I again asked the first thing that came in my mind. Don't you fall over with only two legs? _

_The corners of the slit in her face turned up, but she didn't answer me. Instead she grasped on of my hands and put the band on the smallest finger of the hand that didn't hold my brother's fur._

_ What is it? I asked._

_"It's a ring, she explained. "A... gift. Well, ok. You know how I just turned into a kafit bird?"_

_ Yes, I responded. How could I forget that?_

_"This ring will give you the power to do that. To morph. And more. See, when you morph you can only stay in that body that you morphed into for two hours."_

_My genetic translating chip heard the word hours, but noted to me that this human's hours were different from mine. So accordingly, I asked, What is hours? _

_The corners of the hole in the human's face turned up again. "You have an internal clock that will tell you what two hours is," she explained. "However, with this ring, you can stay in morph as long as you like. Only don't go past the limit unless you have to, because the more you do so, the harder it is to get back to your original self. Also, once you morph with it, you can't morphs without it."_

_I looked up at this human that was giving me such a strange power. How do you morph? _

_"You concentrate on the animal you want to morph into while touching it. That is called acquiring. Then you take your hand away and concentrate on it by yourself. To get back to your own body you think about your own body. Oh yeah, and one more thing. Give me your tail."_

_I stared, puzzled, but lifted my tail so that it rested in her hand. The human gently nicked my finger with the ring on it, and a drop of blood slid down and touched the ring, which glowed red. The human then released my hand._

_"Now no one can use the ring except you. Don't lose it. And after you try it, hide it in your kafit bird morph. Just concentrate on your body without the ring and it will work. And also, when you morph, it returns you to its original DNA, so basically morphing heals wounds. Creator's blessing," she finished._

_Now I was really confused, but the smallest glimmer of hope began to grow. Thank you, I told her softly._

_"Go now," she responded._

_ How? _

_"Just step backward. The time portal will carry you back."_

_I stepped backwards obediently, and the room began to spin like the work room had before, when the human cried, "Wait!"_

_I looked up, startled._

_"Don't ever give up. No matter what happens. Don't you ever give up."_

_ Alright, I responded._

_"I'm serious, don't ever give up. And –"_

_The room spun more rapidly, making her last words fuzzy and unclear just as I reappeared in the work room._

_What had she said? Tell princjhakt we won? What was a princjhakt? And won what?_

_It could have been a dream. It should have._

_Except the ring, she had called it, was on my finger._

_The factory was back to normal, and I quickly continued returning to braiding the metal bands, ignoring the fact that both my hearts were racing._

_The day finished quickly after such an enormous event that no one else noticed._

_What kind of creature was the Ellimist that he could transport me to... wherever he had taken me?_

_A very powerful one._

_And again, what did he want of me?_

Maya's question shook me to my core. What did he want of Maya?__

_A new creation_, he had said.

"I sneaked on board a ship with Andalites, but they dumped me in an escape pod. I got sucked through a Sario Rip to Earth," Maya continued, without a trace of bitterness tainting her voice.

Oh, Maya, what do these creatures want you for?

"And then, I was going to crash, when the escape pod started slowing down. I landed really softly, actually, and didn't die although the pod did get blown up to bits. And then, it was weird, actually, I heard a voice say, 'You owe me.' It wasn't the Ellimist though."

Crayak. It had to be. The Ellimist had said that they were fighting over Maya; they were giving her gifts…

Should I tell her?

_NO, _the Ellimist said, suddenly coming back. _Do not tell her. She must make her own choices._

I could influence those choices.

_And how do you know that your influence wouldn't turn her to Crayak?_

I was silent.

Maya told us the rest of her story as we sat there on the couch. She told us how she found Eun-hee, a small North Korean girl who had adopted Maya as a sister. She told us how they had starved together, until they got captured and put in a North Korean concentration camp. She told me of her murders there, and then of Oba, the sixteen-year-old boy who had died urging Maya on.

And then she told me about how she had lost control, and how on the banks of the Yalu River, she had lusted after the blood of the North Korean soldiers and had torn them all open.

"Then I stayed with the pearl fisher for a while, who killed Eun-hee. This is where I met Oscar. He was a slave to that man. After the pearl fisher started selling us off, I told Oscar to kill him. Oscar is a Nadar, too, you know.

"Then the pearl fisher sold me to pirates. I killed them all – beginning to see a pattern? – and then stayed for a year with the dolphins after morphing one of them."

Maya's voice would have grown wistful at this point, but I realized that she had been putting on feelings and emotions for us, and now that we knew her to be a Nadar, she was no longer bothering.

"A year. That saved me, I think. I went to America, and met up with some street kids. Oscar was there too – he said some soldiers or someone had picked him up after he killed the pearl fisher. I created a gang with them, and we fought together. There was this other girl – Anna – who took me in like Eun-hee, and she died, too. Not surprisingly – I seem to bring death wherever I go."

Her words took me by surprise, and I looked up almost inadvertently. Did she really bring death wherever she went?

"A couple street kids became Nadar, after we burned the guys alive who raped and killed Anna. Then you guys picked me up, and that's pretty much it."

Her words hit me separately and repeatedly, her speech delivered without emotion or regret. Oh, Maya, what happened to you to make you like this? A Nadar, yes, at the banks of the Yalu River, but how many of these deaths weighed on you?

Do you know, my daughter, I cried out in my mind, that these deaths were to shape you? Crayak wants you to be a Nadar, oh, Maya; don't go down that path of hate.

But even as she looked at me with dead eyes, I feared that it was too late.

**Review Responses**

Another little depressing ending for you. I added the ring scene in, because it is important. Summary of Maya's little life is over, now we have Helen's point of view for the torture, death, and previous missions. One more chapter should be good, because I want to move onto the Healing!

And a question – was the conversation between the Ellimist and Helen confusing? I know that I was mysterious about it, but you all just have to wait until Nadar Chronicles 3 to get the full scoop. Actually, not even then. Mayanites: Nadar and Kyan will show it better.

And I have an announcement to make. I want you all to go read _and review_ L. Emmist's fics. He is the amazing author who wrote The Wheel and is currently writing The Heretic. He _is _KAA. ::realizes how weird that sounds since KAA is female but ignores that and continues talking:: Seriously, his fics are amazing. It sounds just like the published works. So I'm highly recommending him, he's on my favs, and I want you to go read and review. The Heretic, particularly. Everyone go review him, and maybe he'll update. By the time you're done reading his fics, you'll want him to update, too. It's my personal belief that he didn't get as many reviews last time because he took like a _year _to update, so by that time no one was expecting it. So you go read it. Seriously. L.Emmist, don't forget. The Heretic.

Obviously I won't threaten to stop updating until I see reviews for his fics because I'm addicted to updating and even if someone held a gun at my head and told me to stop I don't think I could because if you're addicted, it's pretty hard to stop. My hands would probably type and update anyway, all against my brain's commands.

Still, I do want you all to read and review his fics. Kay? Kay. Now, onto the review responses!

BTW… I hope he doesn't mind that I'm advertising for his fic here. I'm not sure about fanfic rules on that…

**Eyes of Forest – **I checked out your fic, and I liked it! You're right though, school is starting soon and that will cut away time. I'm going to have less time to update too, which is why I want to get this fic done before school starts! Well, as long as I have wisdom teeth problems I'll be writing away…

**Hey **­– yay

**A-cat **– I'm glad people like these fics! Yay! It encourages me to update as daily as I can. And this chappie you've already seen before too, although you can comment on why the Ellimist and Crayak want Maya. And Jordan, yes she is Rachel's sister, although beyond that I can only give you cheese. ::hands over packet of cheese:: Jordan will be prevalent in Mayanites: Nadar and Kyan. Anyway, thanks for your review, and here's the update!

**Tabatha**** – **That's interesting that you mention it – Helen fixing different kinds of eggs to _show_ the right way to eat them, and not just _telling _them. And the fear was mentioned in Maya's point of view, so I added it here. Glad you liked it! And I'm not sure if writing fiction helps write essays… I have a problem with wanting to attend to the former over the latter…

**East Coast Ryder **– The definition of the name Maya… well, wait till Mayanites: Nadar and Kyan and that definition will mean something. Or maybe it'll even show up in Nadar Chronicles 3! Beyond that, I can only give you cheese, like A-cat. ::hands over cheese::

**Flame-Of-Life – **Yay! I'd love to be a professional writer when I'm older, but the problem is, with my plans, it won't bring enough money. I want to start orphanages all over the world, and writing novels just won't make the funds. I hope to do writing as a side job, besides a regular job, so the orphanages can become a reality, not just a dream. Not to mention that I want to adopt tons of kids (like Helen!) so I really have to have a steadier income. Then again, I probably should count my husband's income and not just depend on my own… ::figures a little bit and decides to wait until she's allowed to date before deciding what her husband's income is going to be:: And here's the 12th chapter!

**Toby – **Good point. I guess I was flustered because I _had_ a KPSU, so I decided to admit everything and just point it out. And not so frequent reviews will be ok, because I will have not so frequent chapters once school starts. Again, I want to finish The Shrink before school counts ::looks at calendar nervously:: so the Healing will be done at a slower pace. Anyway, thanks for your review, and here's the update!

Okay! So remember, L. Emmist's fics, and also remember my question – was the conversation between the Ellimist and Helen confusing? Mysterious? Boring? Head-scratching what in the world is KP talking about? All of the above?

Okay, I'll stop. Review please!__


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

"Hold on and back up a second. Let's analyze this," Sam said suddenly from my right.

I turned to glare at him. An analysis? Where did he think he was, at school?

Sam ignored me, and turned to Maya. "Maya Lancing Hesser. That's you, right?"

Maya shrugged. "Could be."

I resisted the urge to retort, no it's just another _random _Maya Lancing (since there are _so_ many of them) that is married to someone named

Hesser…

I knew someone named Hesser…

_Don't tell her_, was the thought that filled my mind at that moment. _Don't tell her_.

"Well, it has to be doesn't it?" continued Sam. "Unless it's your daughter or someone."

"I don't think it's me," started Maya carefully, "Because it's obvious that this woman is not a Nadar. No Nadar could be like this."

"Okay, then what about the princjhakt? What's that?"

"Prince Jake," breathed Maya, looking interested for once in her life. "I'm supposed to tell Prince Jake that we won… what though? This war? Well, I mean, no duh. It's not like that woman would tell me that Jake and I won a video game, or something."

Neither of us asked if she was going to tell Jake or not. Why would we? We assumed, just like obedient mortals do, that she would do so.

Sam and Maya continued debating, throwing back and forth different ideas of what this time loop meant. She showed us the ring, and we told her we were proud of her. We told her about the Resistance, and we told her the names of the contacts.

But I didn't tell her who Hesser was.

In later years, she would often ask me, why? Why didn't you tell me?

And I could only respond with a smile, Nadar instinct.

She too would laugh then, because I was anything but a Nadar.

* * *

There were times, though, when I doubted the Ellimist's judgment.

Like when he allowed Maya to get tortured.

Oscar got the radio call and with two words, he took off sprinting. "Maya's hurt," he told us.

Sam got into the car and followed Oscar, picking him by the side while I stayed at home, wringing my hands together.

Maya's hurt? What did that mean?

Whatever could hurt a Nadar?

Stop it, I scolded myself. Don't view her as a Nadar, view her as a child, one who can and probably will get hurt.

They came back, eventually, and the look she gave me stopped me in my tracks.

Gone was any trace of a child, of a daughter whom I could hold and give advice about boys and school. Gone was Maya Lancing.

I am a Nadar, her steely gaze told me. Leave me be to fight and to die.

"Oh, Maya," I whispered, longing to reach out and touch her, to bring her back to the world of love.

"I want to be alone," she said distinctly, and I let her go upstairs, let her slip through my fingers as I lost the child she could have been, forever.

A few minutes later we heard a scream, and Sam and I rushed upstairs to find her kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks as she chanted, "Only with blood can blood be repaid!"

Yes! I wanted to shout. You're right! But not by your blood – only with the blood of the Son of God! Maya, stop trying to pay for your own sins – you can't! You can only be made pure and sinless by the blood of the Lamb!

But she couldn't hear me, and all I could do was love her and love her and love her and love her and love her until I despaired of ever breaking down the wall that she had built around her heart.

I heard her whisper in her sleep, whispering awful things about blood and death and payment, but I only caught one thing that stood out clearly.

"You haven't paid. This is just a start, over and over again until you are dead, for only with blood can blood be repaid," Maya whispered. "That's what they say to me, always. It will ring in my head until the day I pay or until the day I am forgiven. But who would ever forgive me?"

And always, always, she ended her feverish whisper with, "If anyone actually could."

And I held her hands and wept, because I longed to tell her, "Yes, someone can forgive you, and he did and does and will do forever. All you need to do is accept the forgiveness that is free for the taking."

But she had deafened her ears and hardened her heart and all I could do was pray.

* * *

I didn't realize how much the torture had affected her until a year later.

The hospital called me while I was at work, and for a flash I was reminded of how they had called me for Eva, and for a moment white-hot terror seized me in its grasp and didn't let go.

Your husband, they said. He's hurt.

Whatever could hurt Sam?

Shivering, I left the building and went to the hospital that Sam was at, hoping that everything would be ok, that this life I led would be fine, that…

I was thrown back into a memory as I walked up the hospital steps.

_Crayak had a finger in your pie, as well, _the Ellimist had told me. _He wanted to make you into a Nadar, so you would not be there to adopt Maya. But I chose Issip and Sam as my players, and so he was defeated. Now it is his turn again in this game._

_Now it is Crayak's turn in this game._

And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Crayak's move had been against Sam.

I burst into the emergency room and my hand flew up to stop my gasp. Sam's face was bruised beyond belief, and the blood ran down in cuts all over his body.

He lifted a weak hand to me and I took it, kneeling by the bed.

"What is it, Sam," I whispered, desperately, pleadingly. "What is it?"

"Maya," he whispered back through cracked lips. "Don't let her hurt after…"

A fit of coughing seized him while a blinding rage and jealousy seized me. How _dare _he talk about Maya, now!? _I _was his wife! How could he think about her? It was her fault, anyway, that –

"Helen," Sam croaked. "I can see it in your face. You're blaming her."

I shook my head vehemently, trying to deny it while the first tears began spilling down my cheeks. "Yes," I whispered.

He smiled, at gently reached out to tuck a stray wisp behind my ear. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"How could I ever forget?" I asked. "You were the first boy ever to respect me, and then you gave me a fifty."

Sam smiled again. "They told me the girl was safe."

"What girl?"

"The girl that the man was dragging into the bar. That was why I went into the bar, to stop him."

This time God helped me to banish all thoughts of blame, and I asked him, "What was her name?"

"Becky," Sam replied. "The man was calling her Becky Coles."

A faint smile came to his lips as he looked up at me for the last time.

"I love you," he said, just as sweetly and as earnestly and as sincerely as he had said it so many years ago. "And I'll be waiting for you at the Eastern Gate."

And then he slipped away, my beloved Sam, because there wasn't enough blood in the hospital to keep his heart pumping, there wasn't enough blood in the entire world to keep my Sam alive.

But I would see him again, and for now, that comfort was enough.

I didn't notice Maya again until we were back in our house, and then I turned to her and saw the fire burning in her eyes, and I knew.

"Did you kill them?" I mouthed, tears still on my cheeks.

She nodded, and I wept.

For a moment I was glad, and I prayed, desperately, earnestly, so God help me, do not let me rejoice at death – regardless whose death.

It took a while, but slowly, I was able to forgive my husband's murderers as I continued to live, continued to be a mother, continued to care for my children, continued to love the hurt and vulnerable world that would strike out before caring because nobody cared.

But Maya, I knew, would not forgive them, and I doubted she ever would.

* * *

I began to suspect that she had found a new activity when fewer parents called me at night, complaining about her beating up their kid, and when she cut school less and less.

But she never told me, and I didn't bother to find out. If she were fighting Yeerks, the less I knew the better.

Until the day she warned me to stay away from the Talent Show, until the day she called me to pick up several kids and to tell me that they were the Andalite Bandits our spies told us about, then I opened up to her and told her everything.

* * *

"And that's my story," I tell her, as I look into her eyes. They look interested, but whether she is faking interest or is really intrigued is anyone's guess.

"I told you my story already," she says. "So I guess that's it, huh? Do you think Rachel's mom meant this when she asked you to talk to me?"

We laugh, and I reach out a hand to stroke her cheek. She's changed, I notice. The Animorphs changed her. She has a reason to fight now, and that makes a lot of difference.

"Well, I better go to bed then," she says nonchalantly, as if this entire time meant nothing. And who knows, maybe it doesn't. Maybe all it means to her is that my life was harsh as well. That my life was equivalent to hers, but I turned away from being a Nadar. I chose a different path.

She goes upstairs to bed, and I wait on the couch silently. I hear the water turn off and on, and then I sneak upstairs to see if everyone is in bed.

I visit the oldest first – my Sam. His upturned face beckons to me, and I hold my breath, for he is as handsome as my husband ever was. The moonlight splashes on his face, and he turns, mumbling something in his sleep.

Dear Sam, will we ever tell you of these secrets? Father never told you, did he…? Will I? Our home, so open and friendly holds terrible secrets.

Terrible secrets, but not bad ones. For I will tell you one day of my life, one day when the Yeerks are gone and we are free.

I hold my son and sing to him, a song of love, something simple, just to let his subconscious know that I love him.

I move to the next child's room, and do the same, for each child, pausing for a moment at the room that used to be Cyndi's, and wishing that she could have her childhood back.

Then I enter Oscar's room. He's on the floor of course, and so I pick him up and carry him to the bed. He is heavier then I realize, and I look at his face and realize that he's growing up to be a man and is no longer a little child.

If he ever was a child, being a Nadar.

I hold him, and I sing to him again, but before I am done he opens his eyes.

"Why do you do this every night?" he asks in a whisper. Simple curiosity or maybe he's dying to know, or maybe he doesn't care – I don't really know. But I answer all the same.

"Because I love you."

He doesn't understand, but he accepts it, and goes back to sleep. I know that when I am gone he will crawl out of the bed and go back to the floor, and I give him that, I let him sleep where he will because his heart is with Maya, and where she goes, he will go, and what she does, he will do.

And lastly, the room of my daughter, the Nadar who I have told my life to, a full life that no one but God knows. She too is sleeping on the floor, although maybe she isn't sleeping. I pick her up and carry her to the bed and sing to her, and she doesn't ask why, because maybe in this song she hears a little of my life, a little of the bitterness and sadness that has followed me throughout my entire life. Maybe she knows now why I sing of love each night. Maybe she knows that I will remember Issip's words forever – love _is _stronger then hate, he told me, right before he slipped away and died.

I leave her in the bed, and I go back to my own room, a room I had converted into two because I don't need a huge master bedroom just for myself. I go to that room and I pray, I pray for Maya and for Oscar and for Sam and for the other children and for the Animorphs and for Becky Coles and for the Joshuas, and for the fathers who beat their children and I pray for all of them, the whole world over because I cannot hold them all and say, "I love you, it'll be ok," to all of them.

Only God can, and so I pray that He will, and I know He did love them, and He does love them and He will love them for much longer than forever.

**Review Responses**

I couldn't keep away. Told you so.

Last chapter of The Shrink!

**Important Note.**** Do not skip: **And I have another begging to make. I have a fictionpress account, and I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but only A-cat has come (Wraithlord, too for one chapter). I would _really really_ appreciate it if people could read and review. I have the **original **version of the Nadar Chronicles up there, too. And a whole lot of other fics. But I just want to know what you all think of my original version of fanfic. So if you could come and review, I'd really really appreciate it. My pen name is Daughter of Abraham, and the story is called The Nedar. www dot fictionpress dot com / daughterofabraham without the spaces and the dots equaling periods but in this weird and funky formatting I don't know if it will all show up.

So, school's starting soon. Gah. I already said that I can't update nearly as frequently, especially not two in one day… so…

But it's the last chapter of The Shrink! I have to say _something._

Thanks to all my reviewers, first of all. New reviewers were especially nice. Waffles4Eva, Eyes of Forest, Toby Hamee, East Coast Ryder, Kharina, and Anicrazy come to mind. And for the rest of you, the ones who have stuck with me through thick and thin – I've got a special place for you. You know who you are! I'm giving out awards at the _very end _of all my fics (check out my bio) and you all have special awards there!

**Eyes of Forest – **I added you and eyes of smoke to my author alert, so I should get any updates there. Unless fanfic decides to get buggy again…And no problem if it's long – my fics are pretty long too! I'm really glad you like this fic – this is the last chapter, but I will continue. And do check out L. Emmist – he's an awesome writer. Helen and Ellimist will be explained in oh, Nadar Chronicles 3. And here's the update, the next day!

**Hey **- ::smile:: yay ::smirks::

**A-cat **– Here's a daily update! I actually update usually whenever I have time to go online, so if I write daily, it's a different story then updating daily. And your guess about why the Ellimist wants Maya is very close! It's kind like that verse Romans 8:28. He didn't want Maya to be Nadar at first, but he'll use it for the good. And thanks for pointing out that they would notice Maya's name was Lancing! I added that in this fic. And yes, it appears that the Ellimist won, but what happens between then is a _long_ story. And how God fits into this, Ellimist isn't God, first of all. ::hands over another packet of cheese:: You ask a lot of cheese-provoking questions, you know that? Wait till Nadar Chronicles 3 and all will be revealed about God, the Ellimist, and maybe Crayak. I forget which fic I go into about Crayak. And you dreamed about Maya? Ooooh, what was the dream? I get quite a few fic ideas from dreams, actually. Well, anyway, see ya!

**Birdie **– Yay! Thank you! And I don't intend on stopping until all the fics on my bio are done. I might move a few of those to my fictionpress account because I am creating universe there (The Nedar) which they would work well in, too, and because they are so far from KAA's original stuff that they actually wouldn't be counted as fanfic. I just got the inspiration for them in fanfic. So, this story is finished, but I've got a lot more!

**Flame-Of-Life **– I'd love to read and review your fic. I'll put you on my author alert so I can catch further updates, too. And yeah, I'd like to do writing on the side. I'm really ambitious though, so that's why I will need a lot of money to set up orphanages. I also want to do a lot more things which are technically impossible… like set up safe havens (huge tracts of land for refugees in war-torn areas), unite Africa as one country to stop all the civil strife (that's in one of my fics, actually), figure out a way to help illegal immigrants enter legally so they can become American citizens too… lots of stuff. Not to mention raise a family. Anyway, thanks for the food! ::munches away::

**Hell-Flame-Narf – **Wisdom teeth did hurt, but they're getting better. And I'm glad you liked the last chapter – here's another one!

**Another important announcement: **Hey all. I just counted the days and figured out that I have a month and a few weeks to cram for my PSAT test, which I really need a good grade on if I want to do all the things that I told Flame-Of-Life about. So, I'm really sorry, but I'll be signing off of writing for about a month. Again, I'm really sorry, and I'll probably end up sneaking on to write within that time, but as of right now, there are going to be no updates on The Healing for a while. I just wanted to thank you all again for reviewing all my fics and making me feel very nice, not to mention encouraging me to keep going with my writing. But don't worry – I will be back! And same for my fictionpress account – I'm updating one more chapter either today or tomorrow for Creator's Children, but then I'm off that for a month, too. But like I said, never fear, I will be back!

I'll miss you all – I will keep reading whatever is sent to my inbox on author alert, but I don't think I'm going to go on site: too tempting. But anyway, I will see you later, and don't forget me!

Korean Pearl


End file.
